They All Lived Story 62: On the Rocks
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: Jan '82- Apr '82 Cal and Alyse (Elric) Fischer's apparently 'charmed' life is not as calm as it seems; crazy schedules, parenting troubles, and middle-age trying to chase Cal down leave him wondering, where's the roguish alchemist of younger days? More importantly, does he have what it takes to pull his family together when inside and outside forces threaten to destroy it all?
1. Chapter 1

**January 5****th****, 1982**

Brigadier General Calvin Fischer tried not to yawn as he left the meeting room at the end of the day, and walked back towards his office. Yawning was not professional. Of course, neither was the slightly relaxed pace he was using to get back to his office, but at the very end of the day he doubted anyone would notice. If they did, they wouldn't say anything to a superior officer. Or at least, no one but the State Alchemists would, and then only in the privacy of the office without the regular military officers to hear.

"Rushing home I see," Sara Heimler's familiar voice coming up behind him made Cal pause and turn.

"Or at least away from a day of meetings," Cal commented glibly. "That's literally all I've done today, sit in on one meeting after another. I've decided to rescind the thank you I gave you the day you gave up this job, Twilight."

Sara laughed. "Sorry, Whitewater, but I think it was a good trade."

"That's because you got the Training program." These days, Cal would have given a lot to have the time to spend working with the upcoming and current State Alchemists in that program, instead of overseeing their missions. While Marcus Kane was still technically their superior, his own duties didn't allow for nearly as much oversight of the State Alchemists as he had preferred, and a lot of that rested more on Cal now more than ever.

"You should join us for a sparring session sometime," Sara suggested with a chuckle as she fell into step beside him. Cal kept moving towards the office.

"If you can manage to schedule it before four in the morning or after dinner, maybe I'll find time." Cal tried not to grumble too loudly. "And if it's not a weekday, or a weekend evening. I haven't had a free evening in over two months." If it wasn't accompanying Alyse to some gathering or dinner, it was a State dinner, or an auto-mail appointment, or late night planning meeting, or Gloria's dance practices and recitals, or getting Charlie to sit down and do his homework, or a PTA meeting, or a conference with a teacher. There was always something going on.

"You do look pretty bushed," Sara admitted, her expression softening just a little. "Maybe you should take a page out of the Flame's book and make your subordinates work harder."

Cal chuckled. "Are you really suggesting I should shirk my duties?"

"Are you shirking if they get done?" Sara asked, her expression a little too innocent to be believable.

"Alyse would say so." Cal shrugged and changed the subject. "Do you have that report for me on the latest evaluation results on your students?" The State Alchemy exam was coming up in the next couple of months, and so were officer evaluations.

"Right here." Sara pulled it out of the case under her arm and handed it over as they reached the office door. "What do you think I hunted you down for?"

"To heckle me?" Cal suggested.

Sara laughed. "Okay, maybe that too. You just look like you could use it. You're still on for dinner Sunday, right?"  
Cal nodded. "Alyse reminded me this morning, and yesterday morning. I promise we won't forget."

"Good, cause Franz can't wait to fire up the grill. He picked up some really nice tri-tip at the meat market and wants to experiment with a marinade using some Xingese pear sake."

Suddenly, dinner on Sunday sounded far more interesting. Cal grinned. "Who am I to miss out on culinary genius?"

* * *

The rest of Cal's afternoon was almost as hectic as work had been as he drove home from HQ, battling what proved to be particularly bad evening traffic thanks to a fender-bender on the road halfway home that clogged up the lanes in both directions. Cal wove through and found a side street, but it added ten minutes to the drive.

Thankfully, it was Friday.

When Cal got home, he parked in the garage, and went inside and up to the living room. "Hello?" he called out and sniffed the air. Something was baking.

"Welcome home, Dad," Gloria called back, her pretty dark-curled head coming around the kitchen corner.

"Hey, Sweetie." Cal hung up his uniform jacket and began to pull off his boots. "What are you making?"

"Triple chocolate chip cookies, for our bake-sale tomorrow." His fourteen-year-old daughter came out of the kitchen. "We're raising money to help pay for the decorations for the spring dance."

School dances… Cal tried not to think about those. Just as he tried not to think about the fact that his daughter was almost through middle school, and that she was already developing curves that would rival her mother's. "Well they smell amazing," he assured her. "I'm sure you'll sell tons of them."

"I made a few for us too," she promised. "They're still cooling."

"Great. Where's your brother?" Cal asked, mildly concerned about the fact that the house was so quiet. When Charlie was home, usually there was noise coming from somewhere. If there wasn't, that usually just meant a larger noise coming. Having a twelve-year-old son was definitely a learning experience.

"Upstairs," Gloria told him. "He borrowed a copy of the new _Captain Amestris_ comic from Davy, I think. He's been reading since we got home."

At least he was home. Cal often wondered, if Gloria didn't walk past Charlie's school on the way home, and they walked together, if his son would even make it home. He'd probably be up a tree somewhere. That had happened a few times already; trees, power poles, in mud puddles, running around with his friends. "That's good. So, for this bake sale, do you need me to drop you off tomorrow?" He kept any reluctance out of his voice. The last thing he wanted was for his kids to ever feel like he didn't want to help them do the things they wanted to do, however much he might personally be inconvenienced or not in the mood. "That's a lot of cookies."

"No, it's fine," Gloria replied. "Mom said she'd drive, and Carletta's mom and Vara's dad are going to be the sale chaperones."

"Oh." Cal wasn't sure why he felt slightly irritated. After all, he was off the hook for a morning run out. But he hadn't known anything about who would be chaperoning and, he thought, he had sort of expected to be asked. Up until this year, he had been asked to help out almost every time there was a weekend or evening school activity. "I'm sure that's fine."

"It'll be great," Gloria beamed as she turned to head back into the kitchen. Cal followed. "Vara's dad actually owns a catering business, so he's donating a bunch of his pastries to the sale, and Carletta's mom is just the coolest! She's a sales expert, and she used to be a model. She could sell anything I bet."

"The coolest, heh." _What makes her the coolest? _Cal reached out for one of the cookies cooling on a tray and took a bite. Warm, rich chocolate flooded his mouth. Yes, his daughter had definitely inherited her mother's cooking genes. "So," he asked, not even sure why he was asking, and feeling just a little silly. "Am I cool?"

Gloria looked up at him, surprise in her big eyes at first, then she gave a little shrug. "Well I think so but… if you mean what everyone else thinks, no, not really, Dad. Sorry."

What was that supposed to mean? Cal tried not to frown. "What about your Mom?"

"Well yeah, everyone thinks Mom's the living end actually. They even like it when she chaperone's school stuff."

"But not me." Cal couldn't have said why it mattered so much. He'd never cared in school if he was cool, or in his younger days. Except that, he had been. Everyone liked a bit of a rogue; a rebel, a bit of a flirt.

Gloria's expression turned momentarily uneasy. "No. I think they're mostly afraid of you."

"Afraid of me?" Cal blurted, surprised. "Why would they be afraid of me?"

"Well the girls think you're too serious, and the guys… mostly they're just intimidated. I mean, you do usually show up in uniform, and you're a general and older and all that." Gloria looked contrite. "I don't really agree with them. You might want to lay off those."

"What?"

Gloria nodded at the cookie in his hand. "The cookies. At your age you really should watch your weight better."

Cal felt heat in his face. "Now see here young lady, what makes you think-"

"I'm just telling the truth." Gloria surprised him by cutting him off. Her tone wasn't rude, just imminently sensible. "Don't you have evaluations next month? You keep talking about them over dinner."

Well they did. Cal had been part of the planning process, and would have to assess a large majority of those evaluations himself. But that didn't mean he liked having his daughter tell him what to do. "That doesn't give you the right to tell me what I—"

A sudden high-pitched shout came from downstairs in the garage.

"Was that Mom?" Gloria asked, as startled as Cal as they both left the kitchen.

"It sounded like her." Though what would make Alyse shout like that Cal didn't want to imagine. Had someone crashed outside? A mugger? That was stupid. It was too early in the evening for most prowlers. "Alyse?" he shouted as he pulled open the door down to the garage. "Are you all right?"

"All right?" her high-pitched shout, almost a shriek, came incredulously up the stairs before she appeared, dragging a very contrite and startled looking Charlie by his ear. Alyse looked furious and upset.

Cal looked incredulously at his son, who was supposed to be upstairs. "What did Charlie do?"

"Do?" Alyse rounded and looked at Cal. "I just caught your son downstairs, and do you know what he was doing? _Do you?"_

"If I did, he wouldn't have been doing it," Cal pointed out, deflecting the implied blame. "But what was it?"  
"Smoking!" Alyse glared daggers as she rounded back on Charlie. "Where did you get it?" she demanded. "Tell me right now, Charles Fischer!"

Cal looked at his son, stunned into silence.

Charlie swallowed. His face had gone pale. His eyes flickered from Gloria to Cal, then quickly to his mother, then Cal again.

"Charles!"

"Better spit it out, Charlie," Cal said firmly, though without Alyse's theatrics. He hadn't ever seen her quite this upset about any of Charlie's prior misadventures. Usually it was Cal losing his head if anyone.

Charlie looked down at the ground. "I got it out of Dad's sock drawer."

All female eyes went to him, and Cal suddenly wished he were elsewhere. Gloria looked disbelieving. Alyse… Alyse was furious. "What do you mean you got it out of _your father's sock drawer_?" She was demanding the answer of her son, but she was looking Cal straight in the eye.

"I did!" Charlie squeaked. "Honest!"

Alyse's pretty features had gone dark. "Was that the only one you took?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Charles…go to your room. You're grounded. Gloria… make certain he goes."

The children were barely out of line of sight before the full fury of hurricane Alyse hit Cal instead. The worst part was, she had stopped shouting. "Would you like to tell me _how_ our son found a cigarette in your sock drawer, given you quite over ten years ago?"

_I'd like to know why he was nosing around in my sock drawer._ "Calm down, 'Lyse," Cal said as calmly as he could manage, fighting to keep his own temper in check at the accusing tone. "They've been in there for years. I'd forgotten I even had them."

Her expression remained skeptical. "How many years?"

"Oh, geez," Cal rolled his eyes. "I have no idea." Less than ten, but he wasn't about to tell her that. "Why are you shouting at me? Charlie's the one in trouble."

"Only because he found something that shouldn't have been in the house." Alyse was actually quivering with anger and, Cal realized, distress. She was really upset.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'll get rid of the pack if there's any left," Cal assured her, trying to salvage the situation. He wasn't happy with Charlie either, but he could think of far worse things to have happen to a kid, and he full intended to talk to his son and find out what was up… later, when he wasn't being accused of lying or negligent parenting. Besides, if he hadn't found it here, he probably would have somewhere else. He didn't say that to Alyse either. "And I'll talk to him."

"You can have your turn when I'm done." Alyse turned her back, still bristling like a cat in a sage silk dress suit. "I can't believe this! I mean he's done some risky things, but nothing like this." Her voice broke slightly, like a half-swallowed sob.

"It's all right," Cal moved in to calm her, his arms going out to encircle her from behind. "Boys can be-"

Alyse went stiff under his hands and spun on him. "Don't you tell me it's all right! Don't you tell me he's just a boy. This is serious and I can't believe you're not more upset that he'd do something so stupid, and disgusting and…"

"All right!" Cal shouted over her. _Enough already._ "I get the point. Now will you stop shouting like a banshee and pull it together!"

For a moment he thought Alyse had swallowed her tongue. Her mouth worked for several seconds without a sound coming out of it. Finally, she stopped turning purple, though her expression still seemed to say that this was all Cal's fault, though how it was supposed to be he wasn't entirely certain. "I'm going to talk to Charles." With that, she turned and vanished up the stairs.

Cal counted to twenty before he followed. He'd start with that damned sock drawer and make sure it held nothing but socks. _Forget cool. Right now I'd settle for not being accused of incompetent parenting._

* * *

By the time Charlie was in bed –and thoroughly grounded for the next week- and Gloria was in her bath, and things had calmed down enough for Alyse to try and get some last minute evening work done, her brain was far too frazzled to focus. Cal had vanished with some excuse about needing to pick up milk, leaving her alone with her frustration and her guilt.

Finding Charlie down in the garage with that…thing… had been one of the worst moments of her life as a parent; trumped only by the occasional visit to the emergency room for things like the time Charlie had needed stitches after climbing a particularly old tree he had been told to stay out of, or the black eye from skateboarding and running into a pole. But this had been something completely different. Her baby… she wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready for her son to be a teen, or to start doing typical boy trouble things. Gloria, bless her daughter, had twice the common sense of most girls her age, and the worst thing she might do would be forget to clean her room, or leave a dish in the sink.

Charlie… Lately Charlie made her want to pull her hair out.

Alyse gave up on trying to do anything else and went to get ready for bed. She washed her hair, dried it, and then went to her walk-in closet to pull out a nightgown. Half way there, she diverted to Cal's drawers and, feeling mildly guilty about that too, opened the sock drawer. She was slightly relieved to find only socks. It still made her furious to think that there had been cigarettes in there, and she hadn't known. Had he really forgotten? Or, the thought niggled in her brain, had he just never really quit and hadn't told her? _Is that why he's always been so particular about his socks?_

The door to the garage closed downstairs, and Cal's familiar footsteps crossed the living room, then the kitchen briefly. _At least he actually got milk._ Then they were on the stairs.

Alyse went back to the closet.

"I got milk," Cal said as he entered the room.

"Good." She tried to keep her tone neutral. "Charlie's in bed."

"Gloria's doing homework," Cal replied, and she heard the bed creak a little as Cal sat down. In the corner of the mirror hanging by the closet door, Alyse could see him sprawled out on the bed, still half dressed, shoes and jacket off. He was eating one of Gloria's cookies.

Alyse cringed. "Crumbs."

Cal sat up, but he looked annoyed. "After the evening we've had, you're worried about crumbs?"

"No, I'm not." Alyse's hands stopped on her thickest, longest fleece nightgown, which she yanked off the hanger before turning around and glaring at him. "I'm worried about finding other things that don't belong in the house."

Cal's scowl made it clear she didn't have to get any clearer. "I told you, they're old. I forgot they were in there."

"You quit," she pointed out. "Over ten years ago."

"So then why are you grilling me about this now?" Cal's frown deepened. "I thought Charlie was the one you were mad at, and he's already been punished."

"Charlie wasn't the one who brought it home." A fact she wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved about or not. "What did you do with the rest of them?"

"I threw them out, outside," Cal gestured towards the door. "Now why don't we settle down and try and find something good about the rest of the evening? Just be grateful he didn't get the whole thing, and it wasn't something worse."

"Grateful! Are you even taking this seriously?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" There was a dangerous edge to his voice, one that Alyse had never been afraid of, though she knew it made his subordinates cower the few times he'd used it elsewhere.

"Well it just seems to me that maybe you don't see this as serious at all. You're treating it like it's not that big a deal." Alyse walked towards the bed, dropping the nightgown on it. "This is our son we're talking about after all, not you."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Cal came to his feet. "That I don't care about my son's health and well-being? Don't tell me you really believe that?"  
Alyse blinked, startled, and looked at the anger in his eyes. "No. No… I'm sorry." She rubbed her face with both hands, and felt guilty… again. This was just not going right. "That is not what I meant to say. I'm just upset…and confused. Charlie's never done something of this magnitude before. I'm…"

"Afraid it's the start of something worse?" Cal asked, though her apology seemed to have a defusing effect. "He's twelve, 'Lyse. Boys do stupid things. They also learn from stupid things… at any age. I'm sorry." He held his hands open palms up in an apologetic gesture.

Alyse fell into the open space between his arms, her frustration at war with the need for comfort from her husband. His arms closed around her. "You _did_ quit, didn't you?"

"Oh for heaven's… yes, I did," Cal sighed, though he sounded exasperated even as he hugged her. "I haven't bought them in years. Now let it go, all right?"

"All right," she agreed. Nagging him now for something that had been done, and forgotten, years ago, was hardly fair. "I miss when they were little. Pre-school was so much easier."

"Was it?" Cal chuckled dryly. "I remember spending an awful lot of time explaining Charlie's antics to his teachers."


	2. Chapter 2

**January 7****th****, 1982**

There was definitely something therapeutic about a belly full of amazingly well-cooked, juicy, perfectly seasoned, steak fresh off the grill. Cal found himself seriously considering going back for seconds.

He had already thanked Sara, again, for inviting the family over for the Sunday cookout. Saturday had not been his idea of fun. Gloria and Alyse had gone off to Gloria's bake sale, and had not returned until late, leaving Cal alone with the grounded Charlie all day. It had not been a relaxing day. Charlie had a list of chores to do that Alyse had left him, along with homework, and Cal had spent his time partially supervising, and the rest working on paperwork he would really rather have not had to bring home from the office. He felt restless, and still unhappy about the events of the night before, as much for Alyse's clear doubts as to his honesty and his seriousness in regards to the issue, as the issue itself. She wasn't wrong to think that he had found this less of a reason to freak out than she did, but implying it meant he didn't care had been going farther than he'd expected.

"You look far too serious." Franz came up beside him, filling his plate from the pile of side dishes available.

"Life is far too serious," Cal snorted, adding potato salad to his plate. "Especially with the Kartosans harassing Creta's north-west border." Which would not have been much of an Amestrian problem, given Kartos bordered Creta and Drachma, not Amestris, save for their treaties with Creta. It wasn't a war, it wasn't even necessarily open conflicts. So far it seemed to be minor border raids and theft. "I had to send four alchemists to assist in the defensive efforts and they've been tied up there for over a month."

Franz nodded. Of course, working in Rehnquist's office, he knew all about the Kartos problem. "That does stretch resources," he said understandingly. "But that doesn't mean you get to stand around frowning in my back yard." He grinned. "Don't forget to try the blueberry cobbler. It'll make everything better."

"Cobbler can make my son behave?" Charlie was here, because none of them had wanted to miss the afternoon's festivities. But he had been regulated to sitting inside at the breakfast table and doing homework. He could see outside, and Alyse had taken him a plate, but he wasn't allowed to take part in anything.

"I said makes thing better, not work miracles." Franz took a portion for himself. "Is that what's got you so wound up?"

"A good part of it," Cal admitted, though not loudly. Aside from Franz and Sara, James and Trisha were home, with Roy, and Trisha's two kids, Ethan and his family were over too. Not that Cal really wanted Alyse or Gloria to over-hear the conversation either. All things said, it was a fairly small gathering for the Elric clan and extended family. "That and work. Preparing for Evalutions for everyone is even more of a pain than taking the damn things." He followed Franz's suggestion and filled the remaining little spot on his plate with cobbler.

"I thought you didn't mind evals," Franz commented.

"I didn't, when I just had to take them." They had been almost an after-thought when he was _just_ a State Alchemist. "And it's more complicated now that we have funded projects as well as the more standard set of State Alchemists. I have to look at research, adjust funding accordingly, and look at the results of everyone's physicals and then write up detailed evaluations and recommendations. It's one big headache. No wonder Kane and Sara were happy to hand that over."

Franz's smile turned sympathetic. "Kane was still doing most of that when Sara had the job. I, for one, am much happier with her working with the Training program."

Cal glanced over at Sara, who was chatting with Alyse, Lia, and Trisha. Even with everyone bundled up in long-pants and sweaters against the generally chilly day –warm for January but chilly none-the-less- Sara was clearly in top form. Of course, she spent half her days training fighters. Of _course_ she looked great. "You just like that she's hot," Cal commented glibly.

Franz chuckled. "That is definitely one of the perks. There's also the lack of stress."

"And that's where I envy her." Cal leaned back against the fence and took a forkful of potato salad.

"So when you finish eating, we should challenge the girls to a game of something masculine."

"Like what?" Cal asked, looking around.

Franz shrugged. "Actually, our options are lawn bowling and croquet. Take your pick."

Cal cracked a smile. "I think we'd be safer going with anything with the word _bowling_."

"Lawn bowling it is."

* * *

"I can't believe you lost at lawn bowling!" Charlie commented in the car later on the way home.

Cal tried not to groan. "Well, what can I say, your mother is talented." How was he to know that the women were all that good? He had figured that he, Ethan, Franz, James, and Roy had a decent shot.

Nope.

Alyse sat beside him in the front seat. "That's enough, Charles. When we get home it's bedtime."

Charlie stifled what Cal expected would have been an 'awww' of annoyance. He was in enough trouble already.

"Lily said her family's been playing a lot at home," Gloria piped up by way of explanation and, possibly, to divert any parental lectures.

"Well, it showed."

When they got home, Charlie went right up to take a shower and Gloria fed the cat; a long-furred calico kitten they had gotten recently named Miss Whiskers. Cal privately called her Miss Whiskey, given the particular shade of her orange, but Alyse had given him the worst glare the one time he said it out loud so he hadn't since.

Cal followed Alyse up to the bedroom.

"You'll need to wash that," she commented as he pulled off his over-shirt.

Cal looked down. Sure enough, there was a small purple blueberry smear. "I'll get it in the morning," he promised.

"If you don't do it tonight it'll set."

"There's always alchemy," he pointed out with a grin.

"Can't you just do it properly?" Alyse snipped as she slipped off her shoes and started taking out her earrings.

His moment of good humor faded. "There's more than one way to do things. But if you want to be that way about it."

"What way?" she turned and looked at him.

"Rigid," Cal replied. "Inflexible? Stuffy?" he shrugged. "It's not going to be ruined, and it's my shirt. Loosen up."

It was too late to take it back. Alyse's face had gone first neutral, than her mouth formed that thin line that said she was irritated, but not quite ready to blow her top. "There's nothing wrong with a little structure, is there? Doing something now instead of putting it off? Fine, if you're going to be lazy about it, I'll do it."

She reached for the shirt, but Cal held it up over his head, where she couldn't reach it without jumping. "No, it's fine. I get it. I'll do it if it's going to bother you."

"Good," she replied, mollified. "While you're at it, you may want to iron your uniform for next Friday. The new Cretan Ambassador will be here, and we're having a dinner."

"Yes, I know," Cal replied, managing not to roll his eyes or grumble only by virtue of years of practice. _Just_ what he was looking forward to. Of course, it might be interesting. Fullmetal was arriving in town tomorrow, and he and True Soul would be in attendance. "I'll go iron my uniform."

**January 12****th****, 1982**

Of course, the day turned out to be about far more than just that evening's dinner. Cal spent the entire day in meetings about the situation on the Creta-Kartos border, the potential involvement of the Drachmans, though that was mostly rumor at this point, and if it wasn't that, it was a meeting regarding discussions for that night's dinner. After that it was paperwork, and taking the reports of two alchemists just in from the field.

By the time Cal got out the door, he was late.

Alyse was already dressed for the evening when he got home, despite the fact he knew she had come from meeting with three different clients, and she was organizing tonight's dinner. She looked like she was fuming inside.

Cal decided not to press buttons. "I'm sorry I'm late," he said as he hurried in. "I'll get changed. When will the sitter be here?"

"The sitter cancelled."

_I think I hear the crack of doom. _"Do we have a replacement?" Not that Cal was worried about Gloria. His daughter could probably have handled everything herself.

"Thankfully," Alyse nodded. "Will said he'd bring his grading over."

"That's good," Cal replied, wondering why she still looked upset.

"Except he won't be here until almost seven."

"So you go on ahead," Cal suggested. "And I'll wait for Will."

"You'd better not be late though," Alyse scolded, but she nodded, acquiescing. "Dinner for the kids is already in the oven, it should be ready soon. Despite unexpected delays."

"What kind of delays?"

"Your son hid a fake mouse in the oven."

Cal knew it wasn't smart, but he couldn't help but laugh. "A mouse in the oven?"

Alyse glared at him. "Why are you laughing? It's not funny!"

"Well, it kind of is," Cal replied defensively.

"Well I don't recommend trying it on anyone at Headquarters." Alyse went to the coat closet and pulled out her dress coat.

"I wasn't going to." Cal scowled. "When have I ever said anything inappropriate at a formal function?"

Alyse gave him a 'do you really want me to answer that' look. "Just… behave."

"And just _what_ is that supposed to mean?"

"Just what it means," Alyse replied as she opened the door down to the garage. "We don't need a repeat of the Xing Ambassador incident."

"Incident? The Xing Ambassador loved my story about the trout in the moonshine."

"Not everyone is the Xing Ambassador."

Cal watched her go, then went upstairs to change. If it only took a fake mouse to put her in that bad a mood, he might as well make sure he didn't tick her off. Not that he blamed her for being antsy when she had a lot of work to get done, and this was a major affair.

_Crash!_

Cal was upstairs and halfway down the hall when the sound came from the bathroom. Three steps later he found Charlie on the bathroom floor, toothpaste smattered all over the room, grumbling. Miss Whiskers was sitting on the top of the toilet looking furious. "What is going on? Are you okay?" he asked, looking at his son, who looked up at him and grinned sheepishly.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"What the heck were you doing?"

"I thought I'd groom the cat."

"With _toothpaste?"_

"Well… just her teeth." Charlie rolled over and scrambled to his feet. "I-"

"Will clean up this mess right now, young man!" Cal snapped. Enough was enough. "Every bit of it! Then you'll go right back to your room and work on homework."

"But I finished my-"

"_Then clean your room_!"

Cal turned and stormed down the hall the rest of the way to his bedroom, where he slammed the door.

The sharp smack of wood on wood was like a jolt to the system. _What is wrong with me?_ He went into the master bathroom to shower, letting the hot water soothe his frayed nerves. Of all the things he had always been, his temper was something he'd tried to keep in check, especially after he left home. It reminded him too much of his father.

Not that the image in the mirror afterwards was reassuring. Cal grimaced under the bathroom light as he shaved and brushed his teeth. All he seemed to hear lately was criticism; gripes from Alyse on how he did things –usually if they were anything at all the way their son did things, or she thought Cal might have done things that led to Charlie's way of doing things. Even comments to loosen up, and Gloria's comment about his age, and her friends. _When did I become the intimidating guy?_ When had he become… uncool? Not that he'd cared about cool. But it was one thing to be young, and wanted, and attractive, and not care, and another to be told by his adorable little girl that young women thought he was old and fat.

Okay, so she hadn't said the last one, but that didn't make his reflection any more flattering. Usually too much in a hurry to worry about things, Cal paused and took a long look. When had he started having wrinkles in the corners of his eyes? When had his sandy curls gone half-gray? There was too much of his father there.

He grumbled to himself that Gloria probably had a point as he turned and went to pull on his dress uniform. He wouldn't call himself _fat_, but he'd lost a lot of definition, stuck in a desk job the past few years, gotten a little sloppy in the middle. Cal grimaced and tried not to think about it all.

He tried not to think about his father, who probably would have told him Charlie was just like him. Except that Cal had always figured that he'd be able to deal with a son just like himself. They'd get along. They'd be pals. He could talk to him. So why did he want to smack him half the time?

_At least one good thing to looking like I could bite someone's head off. Maybe the boys'll leave Gloria alone._

Because the last thing he wanted was boys like him –as he had been- anywhere near his good little girl.

_So much for being the Dad who's cool with his kids growing up and doing their own things. When did I get to be such a hypocrite?_

* * *

"Wow this brings back memories," Ed chuckled as he looked around the formal dining room of the Officer's Club, where tonight's dinner was being held. It was a really good evening. He had to admit that Alyse had really outdone herself planning this one.

"Good or bad?" Al asked with a grin.

Ed eyed Winry and Elicia, who were both elegantly dressed, standing over by the punch bowl. "Well at the moment, definitely good ones. If you'll excuse me, I think I need to ask a beautiful woman to dance."

He strolled over towards them, Al right beside him, but he was stopped by the sounds of hushed but distinctly unhappy voices coming from off one of the side hallways. He paused, looked at Al, who nodded. Cautiously, they edged towards the hallway to see what the angry whispering was about. Ed was slightly startled to realize he recognized the voices.

"-believe you were flirting with her!"

"I _wasn't_ flirting."

"You were practically _in_ her cleavage."

"It is _not_ my fault the ambassador's dress is cut like that."

"So you admit you were looking."

"Every man here is_ looking_," Cal's exasperation took his tone up a notch.

"Not everyone."

"You want me to go ask who isn't?"

"That is not what I meant, Calvin!"

"Calm down, 'Lyse. She was laughing because the story I was telling was funny."

"I've heard it. It wasn't _that _funny."

"Just because you don't like it doesn't mean other people don't."

"It's crude."

"It's funny!"

"Are you drunk?"

"What the…." Cal sputtered, sounding truly angry. "I have to be _drunk_ to be funny now?"

"Are you?"

"Shit, of course not. I can't believe you'd even ask."

"Well the way you were carrying on with—"

"Enough! Get over it, Alyse. I'm not going to take these stupid accusations and ridiculous expectations from you tonight. I didn't hit on her, but I'm not going to pretend I'm dead!"

There was a loud crack.

Ed and Al moved away from the edge of the hall. Al gave Ed a wide-eyed and very concerned look.

Several seconds later, Alyse walked around the corner, looking perfectly immaculate, though slightly tight-lipped. There was no sign that there had been a fight.

It was another minute before Cal came out, a slight hand print fading from his cheek. He looked disgruntled, then put a more pleasant expression on and moved back out into the crowd. Ed had faked enjoying himself at these things more times than he cared to count. What worried him was the fight they had just overheard.


	3. Chapter 3

**January 12****th****, 1982 (Still)**

A mission to Creta. Cal's mind buzzed as he drove them home later that evening. He hadn't been expecting Rehnquist to draw him privately aside –who ever did?- and ask him to accompany him on his upcoming visit to Creta. Pleased, he said, at how well Cal got along with the Cretans. How good it would be for the two nations for him to come along.

"So, what did Rehnquist want?" Alyse asked when they were home in the living room and Will had left.

"He wants me to go to Creta with him on his visit," Cal replied.

"You're not going, of course."

"What do you mean, _of course_?" Cal turned and stared at his wife, who was putting up her coat. "It's a great opportunity."

"You'll be gone for a month!" Alyse pointed out. "This is not a good time for that."

"Well he's my superior officer. It's not like I have a lot of choice," Cal pointed out. In truth, it had only been a request, not an official order, but Cal wasn't about to tell her that in her current state of mind. He hadn't realized until the offer was made how badly he wanted to go.

"Tell him you have things to attend to here."

"Why? Did it ever occur to you I might want to go? I like Creta, and it's a great career opportunity." One of those things Alyse had been pointing out to him for fifteen years, career opportunities. Wasn't that how he'd ended up Brigadier General?

Alyse was upset, that much was clear. "Why did Rehnquist ask you?"

"Because he trusts me," Cal bit his tongue not to add _like you don't seem to right now._ "And he knows I have a good relationship with Creta; that your whole family does." _And because it gets me out of dealing with the rest of the damned evaluation preparations._ He'd still be back for the evals, but he would honestly be able to tell his subordinates to handle the rest of the pre-evaluation paperwork. He'd have gone for that alone.

"And does this _good relationship_ have anything to do with the new ambassador?"

"Damn it, will you drop that?" Cal barked at her. It was not his fault that the new Cretan Ambassador was young, female, and had a very eye-catching appearance; long dark-ringlet hair, slim waist but otherwise very curvy. He hadn't exaggerated when he insisted every guy in the place must have looked at her chest at _least_ once. The single guys more than that. "Miss Barberis is a professional colleague. I have no idea why you're so threatened by her."

"Threatened? Please."

"Jealous then," Cal pushed. "You're my wife, and I've never cheated on you, not once. I don't know why you think I'd start now." He snatched his civilian leather jacket out of the closet. "I just remembered we're out of eggs. I'll hit the store before it closes." He needed out. He was tired of having these fights.

"Calvin…"

"Do we need something else?" he asked, more coolly than he'd intended, from trying not to snap.

That seemed to bring her up short. "I… we're out of that orange Xing tea you like."

"Thanks for the reminder."

* * *

Edward would rather have lost this bet. It had been entirely on a hunch that, after the dinner, after they got back to Al's and changed, Ed had then borrowed Al's car and followed Cal and Alyse home. So he wasn't at all surprised –unfortunately- when he ended up following Cal the few blocks downtown to one of his old haunts.

It took Ed a few turns around the blocks to find parking, and by the time he entered the place –glad he'd changed out of his dress suit into plain clothes- Cal was already at the bar. It was crowded tonight, a smoky haze on one side of the room, the sound of billiard balls in the back, glasses clinking and low conversation.

Ed wove his way through the crowd and dropped onto the empty stool on Cal's right.

"What'll it be, old man?" the barkeep –who couldn't have been over thirty- asked.

Ed refrained from throttling the kid. Instead he nodded. "I'll take a Cretan iced tea." _With a little alchemy on the side. _

At the sound of his voice, Cal looked up from his drink, startled, and Ed got a clear view of the whiskey bottle on the counter, and the glass of ice. "What are you doing here?" he asked suspiciously.

"Having _a _drink," Ed replied pointedly. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Taking a short stop between errands." Cal refilled the glass.

"I heard you tonight," Ed admitted softly as the bartender mixed his drink. "You and Alyse." Cal jumped. "Anything you want to talk about? I swear I won't say a word to my niece." Mostly because he wasn't crazy enough to get Alyse angry with him, too.

Cal drained his glass and set it down on the bar, clearly thinking over the offer. Then he got a "_what the hell"_ expression on his face, and he shrugged. "I don't know _what's_ wrong with her lately. Me… damn it, I was never meant to be a desk jockey. I need to get out, to _do_ things. I'm jumping out of my skin and I just… I don't know what to do anymore. I don't even feel like _me_ half the time. It's like someone else took over and decided I need this boring, respectable life full of duties and responsibilities and obligations and rules where everything has to be just so and damn it all, I'm not even sure if it's _me_."

_Well, go ahead, tell me how you really feel._ Ed accepted his drink, and put one hand around it, subtly transmuting out the alcohol before he took a sip. "Do you love Alyse?"

"Of course I still love her!" Cal exclaimed, sounding exasperated as he poured more whiskey. "I just… everything's routines and rules now. There's no flexibility anymore. It's all about work, or dance recitals, or attending these little _dinners_, or… and she wants to cram more into it. And then there's the trouble with Charlie. She thinks I should get him into sports, give him something productive as a teen to keep him out of trouble. I don't even like sports! And in that, he's just like me."

Ed had noticed that Charlie wasn't really the sports type, despite being extremely active. "What were you into?" he asked. Cal's childhood was not a topic he knew much about, but everyone was a child at one point.

Cal snorted. "I spent most of my teen years getting into fights, sleeping with the daughter of my father's primary political rival, smoking, getting drunk on my friend's homebrew... and generally trying to give my Dad an aneurism."

All of which would give Alyse apoplectic fits, as they had just proven in one instance. Ed had heard all about it from Al. "I see the problem."

"It's like me and my father all over again, well, almost," Cal added. "He's driving me crazy. I'd hoped he'd be like Will or Al, honestly, the way Gloria's just like Alyse. But he's not..."

"And that bothers you?"

"Worse... it bothers Alyse." Cal ran one hand through his hair in frustration. "It's like lately everything I ever did is wrong... because everything Charlie does is wrong. The other day, when she blew up about the cigarettes... honestly I was torn between wanting to smack him myself... and tell her to lay off, kids do these things."

"But you didn't."

"Not in those words; she'd have killed me. Besides, she was too busy shouting at me and making it my fault." The last had a bitter twist. "I never pretended I was some clean cut, upright, wholesome type. I love 'Lyse, and I love my kids but... this isn't at all what I really thought I was getting into."

Ed listened with an open ear. He was getting a lot more than he'd honestly expected out of Cal, who was often reticent to talk about anything personal. Still, this was hardly an unusual rant for a guy Cal's age, especially not among State Alchemists. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"Take this mission with Rehnquist to Creta. I mean, it's just a diplomatic visit, but it's a great opportunity. It'll get me out of Central for a few weeks. Give us some time to actually miss each other, give me time to clear my head, get a different view on things. Right now I just feel like I'm living a life that doesn't fit. Like I've been faking this whole responsible adult act." He looked at his drink, and gave a soft, rueful snort. "Wow I've lost my tolerance for this stuff."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing," Ed pointed out wryly.

Cal emptied the glass. "And part of me still wants to disagree with you." He reached for the bottle.

"Which part?"

"The part that wants to hop the next train out of Central, ditch the next ballet recital, get drunk in a bar and play pool without feeling guilty about having a hangover in the same house with my kids in it…" Cal shook his head. "I feel like a caged animal. I can't break out…but I can't _break_ either. I just feel like something's stopped working somewhere."

"And what's that?"

He watched Cal's face flush red. "I… I'd rather not talk about it."

Ed knew he was treading into territory he would probably rather not discuss, but given Cal's reaction, he had a pretty good idea of what the problem was. _And I can't believe I'm going to ask this._ "How are bedroom relations in your house?" he asked, not really wanting to put his niece and the words 'sex life' in the same sentence, even at this age.

Cal finished his next glass in one long gulp, and Ed was pretty sure he had struck gold on at least one part of the problem. It was a couple of very long minutes before Cal spoke. His face remained flushed. "It… could be better," he finally mumbled.

"How so?"

"Well, for starters it could be more… spontaneous," Cal groused. "Everything's about schedules now, and meetings, and the kids have activities, or she's got something going almost every night of the week, every day of the damned month. It's like there's no time anymore for..."

"For things that matter?"

Cal winced. "It sounds bad to say it like that."

"But you feel that way."

"Are you going to turn me into a chimera if I say yes?"

"No," Ed shook his head. "But I'm going to tell you that you need to be having this conversation with Alyse."

"You think I haven't tried?" Cal barked a short, humorless laugh. "It's like now that it's been over a decade I'm supposed to be past all that. Some kind of housetrained pet. Respectable officer, father-in-a-box. I grew up... I didn't die!"

The rest of the problem. And again, Ed wasn't surprised. He remembered a little too well his own issues, and those of his fellow alchemists, like Roy, as they aged. "For the record, I don't recommend a mid-life crisis."

"Thought of that too." Cal shook his head. "After what happened with Maes and Elena... and others," he added, a little more politick. "But I don't know how long I can go on like this. Before... I felt sort of... I don't know... ageless. Maybe that's a bad thing, but before I hit forty I was just living, for the day, the moment... and other than being lonely sometimes, I was fine."

"No one likes getting older," Ed cut in, going where he could tell Cal didn't want to. He wasn't going to let the younger man -relative as that term was- skirt the subject. "Everything starts to ache, especially auto-mail... hair goes white or gray...or gone completely. We can't eat everything we want..." he still missed that one.

Cal gave him a funny look. "Have you been talking to Gloria?"

"No." Ed replied, confused. "Why?"

Cal shook his head. "Never mind. But, for the record, apparently I am no longer considered 'cool.'"

"I'll take that under advisement," Ed snickered. "But I'm pretty sure no one at Headquarters thinks you're 'cool' either. That's just now how subordinates view their superior officers."

"Not even Flame?" Cal glanced at him.

"Definitely not him," Ed actually laughed. "I don't think I ever met a guy who could inspire that much loyalty in people who spent all their time griping about him."

"Thanks, Ed. Look... don't tell anyone we talked about any of this, please?"

"As long as you don't do something idiotic, I won't tell anyone."

After a moment, Cal snickered. "Deal."

"What are you going to do now?" Ed asked as he finished his drink.

Cal looked at the bottle on the bar. "Go home, have a fabulous hangover in the morning, and be a great object lesson for my children about the evils of drinking."

* * *

Cal didn't look at the clock when he got home. It was late. Very late. Or, to be more accurate, he would have to say it was early, given it was after midnight and into the hours of the next day sometime. That was all he knew.

The talk with Edward had given him a lot to think about, though it had confirmed he was far from the first alchemist to deal with the challenges of not only balancing military duty and family life, but force of personality as well. State Alchemists did not tend to be the play it safe types. Except, he conceded, perhaps the research alchemists they had these days.

He wasn't entirely sure he had meant to get this drunk, but as he'd admitted to Ed, his tolerance was way down compared to what it used to be. It had been quite a few years since he'd done any _serious _drinking; too many than he wanted to count. Enough that he spent more time contemplating the terrible things he wanted to do to the boys after his gorgeous fourteen-year-old daughter.

But good whisky was not to be wasted. Cal was just glad he had walked, because that meant walking home instead of driving, which would have been utterly foolish. There were some risks even he wouldn't take. He had enough self-preservation for that at least.

The house was dark, which did not surprise him. Cal paused to note that the bedroom light was off, but it looked like the entrance light might still be on. The porch light was on, as if expecting him.

Cal had no idea what he was walking into except that he was pretty sure Alyse would be furious with him, if her recent responses were any indication. The thought didn't fill him with fear... but more of a feeling of resignation, which only depressed him further. He would have much preferred coming home to his beautiful wife and fallen into bed. Instead, he suspected he might be sleeping on the couch after this evening.

He unlocked the door and entered as quietly as possible. If nothing else, he didn't want to wake the kids. He wasn't sure Charlie would care, but Gloria... well she was her mother's daughter, and the last thing Cal wanted was another lecture on taking care of himself from a teenage girl.

The house was quiet. Not even the cat poked a head out of the darkness to greet him. Cal made his way to the living room by the dim hallway light, and the night light plugged in by the kitchen door. Nothing else glowed and there was no sound but the hum of the refrigerator.

Cal hung up his coat and headed for the stairs, grateful for the decorate strip of carpeting on the hardwood floor, and the fact that their floor was very sound and didn't squeak. He made it upstairs almost silently, and passed the kids' doors, which were both closed.

The bedroom door was also closed. Cal delayed, going to the bathroom first, and using the one in the hall instead of the one in the master bedroom. It occurred to him a little late that the toilet flushing would alert anyone awake to his presence.

The bedroom door squeaked just a little as it opened, and Cal winced as the rectangle of dim light from the hallway fell across the bed, and the blanket covered silhouette of Alyse, who was on her side of the bed, further to the left, and facing the wall with the window to the front of the house.

She didn't stir, and Cal hoped that meant she wouldn't notice him. He just didn't want another fight tonight. Not right now. Slowly he undressed and pulled back the covers on his side of the bed, noting as he did so that the glowing letters on their digital display alarm clock read three-a.m.

"So glad you bothered to call and tell me you'd be home late," came a soft, and not happy, voice from the other side of the bed.

_Here it comes._ "The phone wasn't working," Cal replied.

"Don't lie to me, Calvin." Alyse tensed under the covers.

"Okay... I'm sorry. I lost track of time."

"I'm sure you were very busy. Did you get eggs?"

Cal's temple -and temper- twitched. "Okay look... I've had enough of this. I'm not some criminal here. You knew I was going out. I said I'd come back. I'm here. I'm sorry it's so late, but it's not like I can do anything about it now."

Silence met his response.

"So is that how we're doing this now?" he growled. He was tired. He didn't want to deal with this! "I get blamed for things and then ignored? That's mature."

Alyse twitched. "And going out and drinking yourself stupid _is_?"

"That's not what I did!" Cal reached out and grabbed her shoulder. "Damn it, 'Lyse look at me!"

She jerked away, but rolled over, glaring at him in the darkness. "I could smell you from the door," she retorted. "So you tell me. If you weren't out drinking, what were you doing?"

Cal straightened up and moved back, away from that accusing gaze. "I..." He wasn't sure he wanted to admit he'd been talking with Edward either.

"See?" Alyse took his hesitation for admission. "I don't know what's wrong with you lately, but I don't like it. It's not like you."

All of Edward's comments about talking to Alyse about his feelings flew right out of his head. "Not _like_ me? Who do you think you married anyway?"

"The man who's spent the past fifteen years living in this house, raising our children, working at Military Headquarters?" Alyse suggested snappishly. "But lately you've been so erratic... so irritable and unpredictable. So-"

"Me?" Cal retorted. "Come off it, 'Lyse. You're not stupid. I didn't suddenly turn into someone else when we got married."

"So I see. Apparently the mature, reasonable man I've been living with is a myth? A figment of my imagination?" Her voice was tight with emotion. "You never really said you'd quit smoking? That you enjoy making more time to spend with me and the kids outside of work? That you took a desk job so you could be home with us instead of gallivanting around Amestris?"

"That doesn't mean I turned into someone else!"

"This is why Charlie's acting up you know," Alyse replied.

"Again with that! Why am I the one at fault?" Cal challenged her. "He's a twelve-year-old boy. Sometimes they do stupid stuff. It's all part of growing up. He got caught, he's grounded. Why do you feel like you have to blame me for all this? And don't tell me it's because you and Will were darling dream children and I wasn't."

"I wasn't going to say that," Alyse replied, looking affronted.

"No, but I bet you were thinking it."

Her expression shifted. "You're still drunk. Go to sleep. We'll talk about this tomorrow."

"Stop treating me like an idiot."

"Then stop acting like one." With that she rolled over again.

"Alyse!"

"I'm not having this discussion with someone who's irrational and inebriated."

Fury built behind his face, and Cal felt the explosion coming. Hundreds of things he would regret saying... Ed was wrong... so very wrong... but... "Fine," he snapped shortly, and stormed out. He had a couch. It wouldn't be the first time in his life he had slept on one.

Just the first time he'd slept on theirs instead of in their bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**January 13****th****, 1982**

There were few things worse than a hangover. Knowing you deserved it was definitely worse, Cal thought as he dragged himself out of the lower level half-bath after over half an hour of vomiting, followed by dry-heaves. He thought his stomach was back under control, but the throbbing of his temples and roiling of his guts did not give him confidence.

He made his way back to the couch and collapsed, looking up at the clock and wondering where everyone was. It was Saturday morning... but the house appeared to be empty.

Miss Whiskers padded across the carpet and looked up at him with a soft _miarrow._ "Don't expect food from me," Cal mumbled as he rolled over and buried his face in a throw pillow. The very idea of food, even cat food, made him feel even more nauseated. _This is pathetic. _

"She's already eaten," Gloria's voice came from the stairs.

Cal peeked out just enough to see her cross into his field of view holding an empty laundry basket as she headed to the little laundry room. "Where's Charlie?" he asked, not wanting to ask about Alyse. She hadn't woken him. She hadn't even said good morning, but he was pretty sure she wasn't in the house. It was just too quiet.

"Out with Mom," Gloria replied. "Something about taking him to see a psychologist."

"For what?" Cal sat up abruptly, and immediately wished he hadn't. "Stealing a smoke? Isn't that overkill?" Pain blossomed in his head and he nearly doubled over.

"Not just that," Gloria replied, though she didn't look impressed. "But yeah, she thinks maybe he might do better talking to someone outside the family about stuff."

"And you agree with this?" Cal asked dubiously.

"Yes, I do," Gloria replied, turning to face him directly, one hand on her hip, the other still on the basket. In even her home outfit of purple loose fitting workout pants, and a white tank top, her curls piled carelessly on her head, she looked far more grown up than child. The pose only accentuated that fact. "But Mom said you wouldn't like it."

"And Charlie agreed to go?"

"Yes, he did. They're also out getting him some new shirts and other clothes, so they probably won't be home until dinner."

"And naturally no one felt the need to tell me this," Cal grumbled as he leaned his head back, willing his body to behave even though he knew it was futile.

"You were passed out," Gloria pointed out with surprising lack of mercy. In fact, she was frowning. "You know, you really upset Mom last night."

Cal froze. "How do you know?"

Gloria's expression turned from a frown to a straight up glower. "Well, I'm not deaf. I heard everything you said last night. You woke me up. That, and she was worried about you all evening. She kept looking at the phone, and pacing, and she even messed up helping Charlie with questions about his math homework twice. She was still sitting down here when we went to bed." She looked at Cal as if she expected him to say something, but he was a little too startled that she was starting this conversation to respond. When he didn't she went on. "And Charlie's all confused, cause he doesn't understand why Mom is mad at _you_ for the stuff he's been doing. And he's scared, and frankly I'm... I'm just baffled."

That was not the word Cal had expected. "Baffled?"

"I had no idea you smoked… ever." Gloria's eyes were accusing, but Cal could see hurt behind them. "And I never thought you'd talk to Mom that way. It was awful. I'm not saying she was nice back but... you're a really lousy drunk. I hope you know that." At the last she looked away briefly, the firm tone wavering… the voice more that of an unsure girl than the woman she was on the verge of becoming.

Cal refrained from asking how she knew enough to compare. "I'm sorry," he replied instead.

"Are you?" she asked, though there was no sarcasm in it. "I think you deserve to feel like crud this morning." With that she turned and vanished into the other room.

Cal didn't have the energy, or the will, to fight with his daughter. He closed his eyes and lay there, back against the couch back, and waited for the roiling of his insides to subside. Around him he heard Gloria go about the morning. Footsteps went upstairs and came down. There was clattering in the kitchen, then the whistle of the teapot.

The next thing he was consciously aware of was a clink on the coffee table, and when he opened his eyes he saw a cup of tea and a plate of plain toast. Cal looked up at Gloria, who looked uncertain. She straightened up. "You should eat something," was all she said.

"Thanks, sweetie," Cal reached out and picked up the plate.

"Are you really that mad at Mom?"

Mid-bite, Cal had to chew and swallow. It was an odd realization as he thought back and couldn't remember the last time he and Alyse had actually fought like this. Sure they quibbled from time to time, and disagreed, but a shouting match? He didn't think they'd had one of those since the kids were tiny, if then. He'd spent a lot of time doing his best to be reasonable and work disagreements out peaceably... because there were kids in the house. "Yes, I am," he admitted honestly. "But that doesn't mean I don't love her. We just... disagree on some things." Apparently far more strongly than he had realized. Or else he had forgotten.

"Then apologize when they get home." Gloria looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn't. At least not on that subject. "You might want to shower first. You smell like vomit."

Cal offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile, however weak and barely felt it was. "Thanks for the warning."

* * *

"What do you mean you're going to Creta?"  
_  
Here we go again. _"It's a great mission," Cal explained, irritated that after all her talk about work that was good for his career, or good for promotion, she was upset by this. He had hoped it would make her happy. "And Rehnquist wants me on it. We've talked about this." _Last night. _His head was still pounding.

"So you haven't changed your mind." Alyse asked, still standing in the living room next to where she had dropped the shopping bags at the top of the stairs. Charlie had taken his things upstairs to put them away. Cal noticed that Gloria was notably absent from the room as well. "You'll miss Gloria's dance club bake sale."

"I know that," Cal replied, biting his tongue to keep from snapping. His head hurt less than it had that morning, but it had been a very long, unpleasant day spent recovering. "I didn't say I liked it, but this is work. I thought you wanted me to take on more prestigious work?"

"I didn't say I wanted you to leave the country for a month," Alyse replied with a patient, if not pleased, tone.

"Well I haven't had an out of town mission in two years," Cal reminded her. _Calm, keep it calm._ And the last had been to a small town less than two hours from Central. Outside of trips to Resembool, Cal couldn't remember the last time he'd gone on a trip somewhere that wasn't a short one or two night jaunt on duty. Certainly it had been that long since he'd had a personal trip with Alyse, just for pleasure. "And then it was another two before that. There will be overtime pay on this one too, which will be enough to cover Gloria's additional dance classes she wants to take."

All reasonable. Cal could see Alyse's mind turning, almost trying to find something else to gripe about. Finally, she sighed. "Well, I suppose there's nothing to do about it now, but I wish you'd talked to me before you agreed. It's going to make getting everyone where they need to go a bit of a challenge."

"You'll manage," Cal replied. "You're good at that kind of thing."

For some reason, that comment earned him a funny look. Then Alyse turned and picked up her shopping bags. "I'm making Aerugean tacos for dinner. Do you think your stomach can take it?"

"Tacos will be fine." Cal watched her with an odd feeling that a question had been dodged, and an argument had without him in Alyse's head. But at least she wasn't shouting now. Given the way his family had been responding to him the last couple of days, he was beginning to think it would be good for all of them if he got away for a while, and everyone had a chance to cool off.

**January 17****th****, 1972**

Cal's first night gone was an odd one for Alyse. It had been so long since she had had an evening without him around, and it happened to be one of the few where she didn't have something else going on. Gloria was over at a friend's house studying for an Amestrian History test. She had given Charlie permission to go study at his friend Gill's house, but only because Gill's mother had come and picked him up, and was a very strict pre-school teacher, who Alyse knew would keep close watch over the boys. Gill was one of Charlie's few friends who was pretty much never in trouble, and always got good grades.

So Alyse found herself alone at home, with no one to cook dinner for. Cal wasn't just coming home late, he wasn't coming home. And it just felt wrong. Even with as much as they had been fighting lately. A fact that gave her an unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach. What had happened? She was still trying to figure it out. And the few things Cal had given her as clues did not reassure her.

No, Alyse had in no way forgotten who it was she had married; the passionate rogue she had fallen in love with, despite his checkered past. She loved Cal, and still did, but he had changed over the past fifteen years, and not in any way that worried her until now. She had been thrilled and relieved when he took the desk job in Central, and stopped being sent out regularly on dangerous missions. He was home for her, for their young children, and he had done everything she ever could have asked of a husband. He came home from work. He attended his daughter's performances and changed diapers. He helped with feedings; took the kids to the park, or the movies, or shopping for clothes with her.

He had cleaned up his act, so to speak, and accepted the accolades and promotion that came with years of good work. He almost never drank, and he was a model father and husband. Nothing that might mar the happiness they had spent years building.

It was perfect as far as Alyse was concerned. She'd never expected that her children would never get in trouble, or be good at everything. That just wasn't realistic. She never assumed Cal would be home on time every night. Military duty didn't work that way. But it was everything she had ever wanted for herself, for her family, and so that was all she needed.

She had thought that Cal's gradual shift had just been the natural outcome of getting married, having a family, and getting used to not living as a single bachelor. She had thought it had been willing...

But what if she was wrong? It certainly seemed that way, she thought, as she sipped a cup of tea and nibbled at a salad she made for herself. It was the only real explanation she had for his outbursts and his anger. She hadn't been sure what to make of the discovery that he still had cigarettes in his sock drawer. Even if he claimed they'd just been there, forgotten, for several years, he'd told her over a decade ago that he'd quit. So why were they there at all? She hadn't meant to lose her temper as much as she had over it, but to have her baby -however much of a scamp Charlie was- get into them had struck a chord inside her she had never expected to feel. There were so many things about Charlie that were just like Cal... but in her son they drove her crazy, where they hadn't in the adult version. But the adult had been a child too, and she had known all about Cal's misfit childhood, as much as she had known about his years before they got together. He'd never hidden who he was from her. On the contrary, Cal had done his best to make it very clear...

And Alyse loved him anyway. That was part of why she had decided that Charlie should see a counselor. If he didn't feel comfortable talking to her or Cal about things, maybe someone else could reason out of him why he was always acting up. It wasn't like he didn't get attention at home, or love, or get to do things he enjoyed. He wasn't hateful or angry most of the time.

Charlie's behavior had always been a source of aggravation for Cal, and Alyse knew why. Cal and his father had hated each other. They had never gotten along, and Cal had told her well before they had kids that one of his fears was that if he had a son it would be a repeat of the same situation. Alyse had laughed it off at the time, but she could see why Charlie would cause her husband as much internal conflict as familial.

She finished dinner and went upstairs to fold the laundry, still mulling the situation over in her mind. Cal didn't want Charlie to be like him, but Charlie was just like him in so many ways. Perhaps it was no real surprise that they weren't communicating well at the moment. Both father and son needed a break.

Alyse just didn't like the idea that Cal felt maybe they needed a bit of a break too. Why else would he have accepted a month long mission to Creta? Why would he keep going out? Why else would he come home drunk? Maybe he really had had it with the way things were. Maybe he hadn't changed willingly, but just because it was what_ she_ wanted.

Maybe... she was being too hard on him. She had been, she had to admit to herself, more patient with him in the early days; with his faults, his quirks, his insecurities. They just hadn't all gone away like she thought, like he had been pretending.

Alyse pulled out his uniform pants and started with those, ironing and folding them neatly. They hadn't changed much over the years, since the uniforms rarely did. The rest of his clothes were another story; slacks and general pants, comfortable, well fitting, respectable clothes meant to be worn to dinner, to PTA meetings, shopping at the mall. Of course, her clothes hadn't changed much either; still conservatively stylish, but classically fashionable. Good for work, or parenting, or just about anything she needed to do. An officer's wife always needed to look the part, and she liked that look.

Maybe... Cal was bored.

That thought hurt worse, in some ways, than the others, because it was more personal. Forget the rest of the life they had built, what if he was tired of_ her_? Tired of the routine, the security... _them. _

She had to admit that, when she got past her own insecurities, she couldn't really believe that Cal would cheat on her. If there was one worry she didn't have, that was it. Even if he did look. But that didn't mean he was happy. Come to think of it, how happy was _she_? Alyse would never have answered that question with unhappy, but what if she phrased it more as a question of contentment? Or particularly in the level of excitement or passion that she remembered from the early years of their relationship. While there was something comforting and secure in what they had now, it wasn't the same thing.

She knew he wasn't unhappy with her physical appearance. He always complimented her when she wore something new, or even a classic favorite. He never failed to tell her she was beautiful, and while she was almost forty-five, she didn't look it. She had aged, thankfully, the way the women in her family seemed to, which was to say slowly and gracefully. Given how much care she took with hygiene and personal fitness, she had hoped so! There wasn't even a hint of gray in her hair yet.

Cal on the other hand, could not be mistaken for thirty. Not that he was aging badly. Far to the contrary. Alyse thought he looked like some of the middle-aged and older men they got for roles in the movies. Ruggedly handsome, but clearly they had lived life, and life had not always been easy. Alyse gave little thought to the lack of tight jeans in her husband's closet, or the gray streaking his hair. She liked the gray. She didn't mind that he didn't look like a body builder; he was still healthy.

Cal on the other hand, had begun to grumble in the mornings. He didn't like aging, not that that was any surprise. But Alyse hadn't thought too much of it. Everyone grumbled about getting older. But then, he had been bothered for days by Gloria's informing him that he wasn't considered 'cool.' A story she had also heard in morning grumbles as Cal shaved and hurried off to work. Alyse had never really worried about cool, she had just always been someone people liked and she was aware of that without concerning herself too much with it. Cal had spent most of his life the rebel, the loner... Alyse wouldn't have thought he would have cared if his daughter's friends thought he was cool, but maybe that was part of what he'd always wanted to be as a parent. It was certainly the opposite of his own father.

The more she thought, the guiltier Alyse felt. The idea that she had missed just how deeply Cal was disturbed by these things... that he had hid it from her... that he wasn't nearly as happy with how things were as she was. She wanted to talk to him, but now he was completely out of reach, possibly for most of the month, and she couldn't reach the train to talk to him. Theoretically he would call from the hotel and give her a number, but what if he didn't? After all their fighting lately, he might not want to talk.

Given how much his past had hurt him... the idea she might have done the same only deepened her sense of guilt. When he got home, they definitely _needed _to talk.


	5. Chapter 5

**January 20****th****, 1982**

"Look how much he's grown," Lia exclaimed looking at the photos from Resembool that Ed had pulled out of his wallet.

"Which one?" Ethan laughed as he came over to look.

"Well I meant Yurian," Lia explained as she went to the next photo. "But it definitely applies to Hrafn as well. They're growing so fast."

"Kids do that." Ethan looked over his wife's shoulder at the handful of photos. All of his nephews were bigger, nieces too. They seemed to sprout faster than his own kids, though he had enough trouble sometimes with the fact that the twins were now sixteen and Aeddan was eleven-and-a-half, almost twelve. "At any age," he added, noting with some relief that Urey no longer looked malnourished, but had filled out again until he looked like himself. After so long, Ethan would have been concerned if he hadn't.

"You talking about me?" Ted commented, grinning as he came out of Ethan's kitchen eating a large bowl of ice cream.

"The world doesn't revolve around you, Proteus." Ed teased with a chuckle.

Ted shrugged at the use of his Alchemist title. One Ethan had found particularly fitting when Ted earned it last year. Apparently the President hadn't been entirely sure what to make of a multi-talented alchemist. Ted was almost as likely to pull who-knew-what out of a hat as the Fullmetal Alchemist had been. "Well it sounds like I fall into the group under discussion."

"Oh you do," Ethan assured his nephew. "Now save some of that for the rest of us."

"Oh, you wanted some?" Eamon appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Sorry," he added, though he only looked mildly sheepish.

Lia sighed, but her eye-roll was good natured. "Growing boys; there's nothing in this family but hungry boys, growing or otherwise. Don't you two fill up on that, or you won't have room for dinner."

Winry laughed as Ted's grin widened. "Is that a challenge, Aunt Lia?" he asked. "Cause I'm pretty sure I'll have room for anything you can fix."

"Famous last words," Winry commented, but she stood up and stretched. "Though I guess that means it's time for us to make something to feed them all."

"Before the rest of them get home," Ethan agreed. Lily was out on a date –he tried not to twitch every time he thought the word- and Aeddan was at a friend's house.

"Oh," Lia smiled at him as she stood and headed for the kitchen. "I should warn you, Ethan, I told Lily that Randy was welcome to stay for dinner."

Randy…the boyfriend in question. Ethan took a deep breath, and managed to smile. "Great."

His father met his eyes, and laughed. Ethan didn't have to ask why.

**January 22****nd****, 1972**

"Cal Fischer, excuse me... Brigadier General," Ziro Argyros grinned at Cal as he came through the crowd of dignitaries. "It's been a long time."

Cal couldn't help smiling as he held up his wine glass in salutation. "Far too long. We should try to meet somewhere other than the battlefield more often."

"I think my wife would agree to that," Ziro chuckled.

"I might get used to hearing you say that eventually," Cal couldn't help the jibe. Ziro, of all people, had been a bachelor so long Cal had really thought the President of Creta's younger brother would never settle down. It struck him as odd to realize Ziro had been married for over a decade already. "I'm lucky I didn't bet against you though, or I'd have lost a whole lot of money."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence," Ziro replied. "I'm sure Larise would too if I mentioned it to her."

"But you're not that stupid."

Ziro grinned over his glass as he sipped. "No, I'm not. Like you, I got lucky. How's the family? I haven't gotten to pay my respects to Alyse in some time."

"I wasn't aware your wife let you 'pay your respects' to anyone anymore," Cal commented wryly. "They're doing well," he replied, not really wanting to get into too much detail about the situation at home. He had sort of been enjoying not thinking about it for the past week. "Though Charlie's quite the scamp."

Ziro laughed. "I bet! Well, consider the stock. Not that I should talk. I sometimes wonder how my father stayed elected, given some of the stuff I pulled as a boy. I know my brother has enough anxiety hoping Thrakos doesn't pull something."

Cal snickered. "I'm not sure why. I don't think he'd do anything to piss of Minx. One toe out of line and that boy would be cat food."

"Tell my brother that." Ziro shrugged. "Until those two actually settle down, I'm not sure he believes Minx has that kind of effect on Thrakos."

"That's only because she hasn't pushed the subject," Cal shrugged, happier to talk about someone else's love life. Ah the melodrama of youth. Not that his niece was ready to settle down. She was having far too much fun adventuring for a living. Every archaeological discovery since she'd finished college in '80 was another jewel in her crown, and right now she'd turned out more research findings and papers in a few short years than several much more notable archeologists of previous decades. "When Minx decides she's ready to stop globe-hopping, I don't think Thrakos is going to have much say in the issue."

"Lucky guy," Ziro quipped, his smile broadening. "We should all be so lucky as to find our love in life sooner."

There was an odd twisting sensation in Cal's gut as he nodded, and smiled though he didn't entirely feel it. "Yeah, we should. What is that cad of a nephew of yours up to these days anyway?"

"Would you believe he's gotten involved in lobbying for the preservation of some of our southern-most historical sites?" Ziro grinned. "Not that Minxia's interest in them has anything to do with it of course."

"Of course not," Cal chuckled.

They talked for a few more minutes before Ziro was called away to take part in another conversation. Cal watched him go, and felt a twinge of jealousy at the way Ziro had spoken, rather glowingly, about his wife and the hints of passion and playfulness that told him Ziro hadn't changed much, he'd just found a woman that fit him.  
Cal missed when he could speak that way about Alyse. And just that thought made him feel bad all over again about what had happened before he left. He'd been angry, but he'd also been stupid. Venting his frustrations weren't going to fix anything. There was nothing wrong with Alyse, or the kids, or their life... just him, and some of their communication. But there was no reason his insecurities should ruin the good life they had worked so hard to build.

He decided then, as he sipped his wine, that he didn't want to worry Alyse and the kids, or bug them with his griping. But he wasn't going to just roll over on his back and be a lap dog either. For one thing, he really didn't like having his belly rubbed.

**January 24****th****, 1982**

James Heimler made his way over to the University as soon as he got done with the pile of filing that had been on his desk. He straightened his glasses and pushed through the wind and the mist, hoping to be outside the education building when Krista got out of class. She didn't know he was coming, but that was fine by him. He wanted to surprise her.

It didn't take him long to reach the building. Half-way up the long flight of stairs he saw Krista standing at the top, under the stone covering outside the doors, chatting with someone.

"So, you want to get a drink or something?"

James paused on the stairs. That was definitely a male voice. As he came more slowly up, grateful for the students coming and going that made him unlikely to be spotted immediately.

"That's sweet of you, Rick," Krista smiled at him. "But I really do need to finish this research paper before tomorrow."

"Tomorrow then. Promise me," he grinned. Rick seemed to be a tall guy, with thick, brown hair, tanned skin, and a very white smile.  
James felt a slither of jealousy in the pit of his stomach.

"Ask me tomorrow," Krista said, though there was a note of regret in her voice.

"Until tomorrow, fair lady." Rick bowed with flair then hurried off down the stairs.

James waited until the other guy was definitely gone before he came up the stairs. "Hey, Krista."

She turned, and a momentary flash of surprise turned into a smile. "James! You escaped the paperwork."

"For once," James nodded, glad to see she was happy to see him. "I thought you might want to grab a bite. I'm sure you're busy," he held up a hand to forestall objections, and grinned. "But you can't expect to focus on your work if you haven't had a proper meal right?"

Krista chuckled. "You have a point," she acknowledged. "But it can't be long, all right? I have this ten page research paper to finish by—"

"First thing tomorrow morning?" James guessed.

"How'd you know?"

"Because I know you, and how much your teachers seem to love evil deadlines." James gestured down the stairway. "Dinner's on me. You pick the spot."

"Well, all right, let me think." Krista paused for a moment. "There's a little place just off campus that makes great Aerugean food."

"Sure." James had to keep his cool on the outside, but inside he felt like doing a little jig right there on the stairs. _Take that, Rick. _"Sounds great. Lead the way."

Krista fell into step beside him as they headed back the way James had come in earlier. "Thanks for understanding," she said. "And I haven't been putting it off. The paper's half done, but this last part I've just been having trouble getting it to go together the way I want it to."

"It's fine. Even a short dinner is better than not getting to hang out with you at all," James pointed out. "It's not like high school. If it weren't for family events, I'd never see you."

"You're right." Krista smiled, and then nudged him with an elbow. "We should fix that."

_Yes!_ "Yes," James said calmly. "We should."

**January 27****th****, 1982**

"Hey, Teddy!"

Ted rolled his eyes, but turned around and gave the guy calling his name a winning smile, because there were girls with him. "What is it, Rumbles?"

The Tremor Alchemist, Larry Pullman, frowned and shook his head. "All right, all right. Sorry, Proteus. We were just wondering if you wanted to hang out this evening."

Ted looked at 'we'… which proved to be two more State Alchemists, Clarina Harper –the Alabaster Alchemist- and Vera Kollan –the Ultraviolet Alchemist; both very intelligent and attractive girls, Clarina as fair and light and Vera was dark-haired and tan. "Sure," he joined them. "Where were you thinking of going?"

"The _Backbeat_," Vera grinned, her dark eyes bright with anticipation. "You know, that new club downtown that just opened. It's supposed to be hot."

Ted hadn't been down there yet, but he'd been hearing about it for weeks. "Sounds great," he agreed. "What time?"

"Meet you at seven," Vera smiled, though Ted noticed that her eyes went to Larry. "I got a new dress just for the occasion."

Ted looked at Clarina, and was pleased to note that she was smiling at him. She wasn't as aggressive as Vera, and he was okay with that. "I'll be there."

* * *

Ted was glad he'd changed out of uniform into something more stylish –in this case black pants and an emerald green short-sleeved silk shirt- when he joined the party, waiting in line to get into the club. It was quite a line. "Wow, it's really hopping," he shouted over the noise as he sidled up next to Clarina, who was wearing a fitted teal dress with a high neck, no sleeves, and a skirt that stopped just above the knee, clearly meant to flare when dancing.

Vera hadn't been kidding about her new dress. It was tight, low-necked, sleeveless, mini-skirted, and vibrant red. Larry's arm was already possessively around her shoulders. "Just wait till you see inside," Vera grinned back at him. "My cousin works the bar here, and he let me have a sneak peek last week."

"Awesome." Nothing wrong with being connected! Ted grinned at Clarina. "You look fabulous."

"Thanks," Clarina smiled warmly, though he thought there might be a hint of blush in her cheeks. It was hard to tell in the shadows thrown by the streetlamps and the neon red and blue club sign. "I like your shirt."

"Oh, thanks." He made a mental note to thank his Aunt Lia for the fashion advice when he'd first gotten into town and had to do his own shopping. "So, you like dancing." It seemed a safe bet, given the evening's activity.

"I love it," she nodded. "Though Vera's been teaching me most of the popular dances. I took ballet when I was a girl."

"Ballet, huh. How'd you get into alchemy?"

"My mother was an alchemist," Clarina said. "She used it for her sculptures. Always said it made the details come out better, the way she wanted, more real. You should see her work. It really looks like there's life in the stone."

"Which is why you're so good with it."

This time, he was sure Clarina was blushing. "She taught me most of what I know. The rest…"

"Was experimental?" Ted grinned. "That's usually how it works, or we'd never learn anything new about using alchemy."

"That's true. So," Clarina glanced his way. "Why 'Ted?' I heard your name is Edward."

"Firestorm gave me that nickname, actually," Ted replied with a grin. "He said it was too annoying to have two Edward Elrics in the same place when he was studying with Grandpa. I liked it, so it kind of stuck around. It's definitely better than going around HQ by my first name."

"That would be a lot to live up to, wouldn't it?" Clarina said as they made it to the front door.

"Don't get me wrong, Grandpa's great," Ted chuckled as he pulled out his ID for the bouncer at the door. "But we're definitely two different guys, and I'd rather do this thing on my own."

Inside was everything Vera had been talking about, with bright neon lighting, with low-light tables off to one end, not far from the bar, a big stage at the other with professional lighting and a live band jamming, and a big dance space in the middle, already crowded with dozens of couples, and what looked like a lot of singles having fun. The first thing they did was get a table.

"I'll get drinks," Larry offered as he headed for the bar. "What'll it be?"

"Ooh… watermelon margarita!" Vera grinned.

"A cherry wine cooler, please," Clarina replied.

"Ted?"  
_  
Nothing too froofy that's going to make you tease me in the office for a month, that's what._ Ted thought for a moment. He didn't want anything particularly strong. "Rum and cola," he offered after careful consideration. He could sip it half the night, and it wasn't straight liquor, or beer. He hated the taste of beer.

Apparently his order passed muster, because Larry grunted, nodded, and headed off to the bar.

"So," Ted smiled at Clarina and held out a hand. The beat was making his feet twitch. "Would you like to dance?"

Clarina put her hand in his. "I'd love to." 

* * *

_Author's Note: 10/22/2013 A little interlude to catch us up with a few folks, and introduce a couple more, while we also check up on Cal on his little mission. :) Cal will return home next week and we shall see how things proceed on the home front!_


	6. Chapter 6

**February 15****th****, 1982**

It had been a refreshingly enjoyable diplomatic mission Cal had to admit as he returned to Central. He and Rehnquist had met several times with President Argyros regarding the border situation, which was thankfully very much under control. They had been specifically thanked for sending the alchemists Cal had hand-picked for the mission. They were doing a great job of discouraging and distracting the raiders, particularly Felix Tringham, whom Cal had put in charge of the group.

He had also gotten to spend an evening socially with Ziro, his wife Larise, and their one precious but surprisingly well-behaved son, Riko, who was only four.

Visiting Creta was usually a treat. Good conversations, productive discussions, and too much good food.

_And now, back to the routine._ The thought was not as bitter as it would have been a month ago, but Cal wondered how his family had fared in his absence. He had called home at least twice a week, to check in, let Alyse know he was alive, and generally keep in touch. Everything was fine, she assured him, though the conversations never lasted long. International calls were expensive.

A government car dropped him off at the house late on Monday afternoon, but not so late that Alyse was likely to be home yet. Cal went up the front stairs and went inside.

The only living being to meet him at the door was Miss Whiskers, who gave him a dirty look and meowed for food. "Later," Cal promised. He could hear floor creaking upstairs, which meant the kids were home.

Cal paused in the open doorway of Gloria's room, hoping he wasn't catching his daughter in the middle of anything too important, though he was pretty sure he was. His daughter was always busy; dance practices, homework, clubs, the school paper...

Gloria was standing in front of her desk, a pencil behind her ear, reading over a sheet of paper in her hand. She paused and looked up, her face broke into a smile. "Hi, Dad. You're home!"

"Hi," Cal smiled back, glad to see his daughter's reaction was positive. After the way things had been when he left, he wasn't entirely sure what kind of a homecoming he was going to get.

"Did you need something?"

"I just wanted to talk, if you have a minute," Cal replied. "If you're busy I understand."

"No, it's okay. I'm just proofing my article I need to turn in tomorrow." Gloria set it down and turned to face him. "Now, what did you want to say?"

Cal took a calming breath. "I wanted to talk to you about what happened before I left. I'm sorry I worried you, sweetie."

"What about Charlie?" Gloria asked.

"I'll apologize to him too," Cal replied. "But there are things you and I can talk about that he's not old enough to hear yet." He wanted to keep things open, however difficult it was to face the possibility of discussing his past with his little girl. She wasn't a child anymore.

Gloria took her time considering that statement before sitting down on the edge of her Xing-blue and white floral bedspread. "Why haven't you ever wanted to talk about that before?"

"Because... I've done most of it," Cal admitted awkwardly. "I_ was_ the guy most fathers wanted to run out of town, even my old man. I'm not proud of a lot of the things  
I did when I was your age. Smoking wasn't the half of it."

"But you've never tried to warn me against any of it," Gloria pointed out. "Mom has, and she's never done anything wrong as far as I can tell."

"That's because your mother was an angel. There's nothing worse than a nagging, critical father," Cal replied. "But honestly? I've never worried about you because you're too smart and sensible for that kind of crap. You've just never been the type."

Gloria looked mildly pleased by the statement. "So... you don't threaten my male friends because you don't trust _me_."

"Of course not. I just don't trust _them_ to have the self-control to keep their pants on."

At that his daughter's cheeks turned rosy. "Do you trust me to be able to tell the difference?"

She had a very good point given he had just complimented her on her judgment. Cal smiled, feeling slightly abashed. "Yeah, I do. But some guys just won't take a hint."

"Ever had a toe shoe to the groin?" Gloria's little smile was startlingly wicked.

"No. I actually haven't." The very idea was painful, but Cal was glad to see his daughter was willing to suggest it. She probably would put up a fight against unwanted advances. "Hopefully I never will." He shrugged. "I know I'm not great at these personal talks, but I love you, and I never want to lose your love or your respect. If there's anything you want to ask or tell me, I'm here, and I'll answer you honestly." Even if he might regret it later.

For several seconds, he wondered if Gloria was going to ask for all the details of his sordid past. Then, she surprised him by standing up and giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"What's that for?"

"For coming to all my performances since I started dance, even though I know you don't really like ballet."

Cal returned the hug. "That obvious, huh?"

Gloria chuckled. "You and Charlie fidget the same way. You just hide it better."

"And you don't mind?"

"You're there," Gloria pointed out. "It means more to me that you come watch me anyway."

Cal squeezed her tighter. "That's because my little girl's the best dancer on stage."

* * *

Cal wasn't sure what to expect from Charlie. His son was in his room, lying on his bed with the radio playing, and flipping through a comic book. "Hey, can we talk?" he asked over the music.

Charlie looked up, then closed the comic and turned down the radio. "Guess so. Am I in trouble?" he asked with a wary expression.

"Should you be?" Cal asked as he came into the room and closed the door.

"Not today." Charlie shrugged. "I don't know. What did you wanna talk about?"

"I was just curious what you thought of this new counselor, that's all." Cal tried to keep his tone casual as he sat down on the bed next to his son.

"Oh, him. He's okay I guess."

That wasn't particularly informative. "Just you guess?"

"I mean, he's nice enough," Charlie elaborated. "He's not real pushy or anything."

It was something at least. "Do you think it helps to talk to him?"

"Maybe?" Charlie looked at him curiously. "Dad, have you ever talked to one?"

"A couple of times." It had been pretty much mandatory after getting his leg blown off in Aerugo, especially before they would let him back on duty. Those had been particularly rough years. Cal hoped Charlie might feel better about it knowing he wasn't the only one.

"Did it help you?"

"Some. Depends on why you're there I guess," Cal replied honestly. Lying or covering up the truth wasn't going to get him anywhere with this kid. "I probably could have used it when I was in school, but I likely wouldn't have listened or cooperated. I was kind of a stubborn troublemaker."

"Did you get in trouble a lot?" Charlie asked, though he didn't look like he expected Cal to give him much of an answer.

"All the time."

"For smoking?"

"And fighting, and drinking, and staying out late, and arguing with my old man, and kissing girls..."

"Then why are you so mad at me?"

Fair enough. "Because I was stupid then, and I don't want you to do all the stupid stuff I did. I was mad at my father, and I did it to make him mad, and because I was angry that he never thought anything I did was right even when I did something well." He left out sleeping around or getting a girl knocked up. Charlie really didn't need those details at his age.

Charlie seemed to be absorbing most of what Cal said, and actually thinking. "Wait... you kissed _girls?_"

"Not when I was twelve," Cal almost smiled at the look of revulsion on Charlie's face. Thank goodness they hadn't hit that phase yet! "I kiss your Mom."

"She's not a _girl._"

"She might disagree with you on that."

Quiet fell again as Charlie thought. Cal didn't disturb his son. He'd talk when he was ready. "So you really don't do that stuff anymore?"

Cal nodded. "I quit when you and your sister were really little, because I wanted to be a good Dad, not like mine. He hit me sometimes, and my mom, when he got drunk. He did that a lot. I hated him for it. And then I was even more stupid."

Charlie looked embarrassed. "I only wanted to try one 'cause I wanted to know if they were really gross or not."

"And?"

"It was gross." Charlie stuck his tongue out.

Cal was relieved to hear that. "Trust me, they never taste better."

"Then why smoke them?"

"Cause it's really hard to stop a bad habit, and they kill your taste buds." Cal dared to put his arm around his son's shoulders for a hug. Charlie didn't pull away. "Like chewing on a pencil, or gum, it just gets to be habit... but it can hurt you."

"Oh." Charlie leaned absently into Cal's side. "Did you ever do drugs?"

Cal tensed. "Nope. I was never _that_ stupid."

Charlie chuckled a little. "Me neither. Do you think Mom will ever unground me?"

"Sure she will," Cal promised. "That is, if you can stay out of trouble long enough. We really need to find you a hobby that doesn't result in detention."

"Gill's dad rebuilds old cars in their garage."

"Oh? Does he let you guys help?"

"Yeah, sometimes," Charlie nodded enthusiastically. "It's really cool! We got to help sand and paint the new fenders on the blue one before I got grounded." Then his face fell. "They'll probably have it finished before I'm allowed to do anything other than homework and hang out in my room again."

Cal made a note to talk to Gill's folks, and maybe check out a hobby store for model cars. "Don't worry," he said reassuringly, "I'm sure you'll get to help with the next one."

* * *

His mood improved by the positive conversations with both kids, Cal found that Alyse had a casserole in the fridge ready for the oven, and he stuck it in. No reason not to start on dinner for them. He noticed fresh salad fixings in the refrigerator, so he pulled those out and started chopping.

He was just about done with the salad when he heard the door down to the garage open, and heels on the stairs, though they softened to almost nothing when she hit the carpet.

"You're home."

"Well you don't have to sound surprised," Cal turned, and offered her a smile as he closed the distance between them. "Sometimes these things end on time." He pulled her in for a kiss, and felt a sense of mild relief when she returned it.

"Sorry." She smiled. "I was just caught up in plans in my head. Was it a good trip?"

"It was very productive. I didn't start any wars with Creta, and all of the Argyros family sends their love and good wishes."

"Glad to know you didn't start anything." Alyse said softly. "It was awfully quiet without you."

"Was that a good thing or a bad thing?"

Alyse poked him in the arm, then hugged him. "Well, it was nice at first, but I missed you. And the kids missed you."

"I know. I had a nice chat with each of them earlier."

"You did?" Alyse looked up at him, surprised.

"Yeah. It went well." At least, he thought it had. Time would tell.

"Well, good." Alyse let him go. "Thank you for starting dinner."

"You're welcome. It's good to be home." He rested his forehead against hers, and leaned in for another kiss, pressing her close against him. It felt good to feel here there again. The kiss began to grow more heated.

"Hey, Mom, Dad I—" Gloria stopped in the kitchen entryway.

Too late. Cal cursed silently as Alyse stiffened and pulled back. "Did you need something, sweetie?" Cal looked up at his daughter.

Gloria looked slightly embarrassed. "I was just wondering when dinner would be ready. Charlie's stomach is growling so loud it's scaring the cat."

"It'll be ready in just a few minutes." Alyse said, and then she was pulling away from him and moving to the refrigerator. "Will you help set the table?"

"Sure," Gloria nodded, going for the silverware.

Cal sighed, and went to get the plates.

He didn't get a chance at Alyse alone until after dinner, which turned out to be a long affair, as Gloria and Charlie told him all about the things they had been up to while he was gone. Unsurprisingly, with Charlie grounded, the majority of that time was taken up by Gloria. Cal didn't want to rush them. He had honestly missed them and wanted to know what they were up to. Finally though, everyone finished eating, and helped clean up. Charlie did the dishes and Gloria fed the cat. Then both of them headed up to bed, though Cal knew both would be up reading until lights out.

He followed Alyse up to their bedroom, grateful she hadn't headed for the cramped little home office instead. Cal wanted her to himself tonight. He closed the door and reached out, catching her hand.

Alyse turned and looked at him, a moment's confusion turning to comprehension as she met his eyes. She didn't fight him as he pulled her close again, the heat rising quickly between them. A month apart, and the quarrels beforehand had left him yearning for far too long. And now she was here…so close… "Oh….Lyse…" His hands went for the buttons her blouse.

And he was stopped by a hand pressed against his stomach.

"Cal…"

"What?" He paused, though it took immense strength of will. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. It's just it's…"

"The wrong time of the month?" Cal asked, feeling sinking disappointment.

She nodded. "I've been cramping all day and it's heavy right now. I just… I'm sorry."

"No, no," he made himself smile. He understood, even if it did leave him frustrated. "It's not like it's your fault." Though they'd been a little less regular the past year or so, and he half expected her to tell him any time that her doctor would tell her she had actually hit menopause. Messy, cramping… she wasn't in the mood. "I should have asked. How about a night of passionate cuddling instead?"

That elicited a chuckle. "I think that can be arranged."

"Good." He kissed her forehead. "Then let's get comfortable and snuggle up and you can bore me to- err… regale me with the details of your lasted event planning adventures." The phrasing was on purpose, and it got him another smile, even if she did shake her head.

They changed for bed in companionable quiet, and Cal ducked into the bathroom for a quick rinse-down shower to get the travel grime off. It felt good to wash in his own house again, where the water was as hot as he liked it, and beat down hard on his back.

When he was done, he stepped out and tried not to slip on the floor as he dried off and brushed his teeth. He was just finishing up when his eyes caught the bathroom scale on the floor. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the damage done by his trip to Creta. He had tried not to think about it the whole month. _Aww heck…might as well get it over with._

"Cal, are you coming?"

"Just a minute," he called back.  
_  
Aww… hell. _


	7. Chapter 7

**February 27th, 1982**

Alyse wasn't entirely sure what came over Cal after his trip to Creta, or what to make of it, but the next two weeks were odd. Not bad, per say, just odd. The first thing was that Cal would vanish in the morning before she got up. Oh, she'd get a kiss goodbye, but he'd vanish and be out the door –by six in the morning her clock told her when she looked- and wouldn't be home until the end of his work day. It took her a week to realize that there were more sweats and sets of gym shorts and shirts in the laundry at the end of the week than she was used to, and they were definitely too big to belong to the kids.

It didn't take much to figure out that Cal was stealing workouts in the early morning hours before he had to be on the job. Alyse certainly wasn't going to complain. Cal had been so grouchy about his work of late, and the fact he couldn't find time to fit workouts into his regular schedule anymore. If he wanted to get up earlier, that was fine, though he never said a word about it, and she wondered why.

The bigger shock came the day he was late coming home –not unusual in and of it self- but when he did get home, he looked different.

"What did you do to your hair?" she asked, not staring exactly, but startled. It wasn't that it was dramatically different except that…well, compared to what it had been, it was. Cal had needed a trim, but this was not anywhere near as short as he had been cutting it the past few years. It looked, well, not that different from how he had worn it in his thirties, except a little more current, and "It's blond."

"It's always been blond," Cal replied with a snort, but he looked mildly disappointed. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't say there was anything wrong. It looks nice," Alyse admitted. In fact, it looked just like it had before it started going gray. "I just wasn't expecting it." Given the sandy nature of his original color, it was only a dramatic shift because she had gotten so used to it the other way. She wasn't sure how many other people would find it as noticeable. "It's a good look on you."

That seemed to be the answer he was hoping for, because Cal smiled. "Good." Then he kissed her on the cheek and hung up his coat. "So, what's for dinner?"

**March 6****th****, 1982**

Not that Cal seemed nearly as interested in eating dinner. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy it, but he quietly turned down seconds, and half the time, dessert. He didn't make a big deal out of it, but it was noticeable.

Alyse wondered if it had to do with how evaluations had gone when he got back, but she didn't ask, and Cal didn't volunteer. He was in a better mood, and less frustrated with the kids, and less grouchy over all, so she wasn't sure she minded whatever it was that had caused the change in attitude.

At least, as long as it wasn't a threat to their family happiness.

She wasn't sure what to make of the fact that Cal hadn't voiced a complaint about Charlie seeing a counselor. She had just been so frustrated it had seemed like the best recourse, and so far, it seemed to be helping. At least in that Charlie hadn't been in detention in school, sent home with a note, or in any more trouble other than the general minor 'what does this do' mishaps, in the past month and a half.

He even talked her into letting Charlie out of being grounded. The point was made, and he had an idea for keeping the boy busy.  
"Somehow I don't see how new clothes will keep Charlie out of trouble," Alyse commented as she looked, a little startled, at the bags Cal had strewn across the bed.

Cal shrugged. "Those are mine. I got tired of wearing the same old thing every day."

Alyse poked curiously through the bags. Definitely not the same old thing. Jeans, a couple of pairs of casual slacks, several new shirts that definitely qualified as comfortably stylish instead of 'I'm a General attending things out of uniform.' She had almost forgotten that Cal _had_ a stylish streak. He had always worn things that were casually trendy without making them look like anything other than comfortable what-he-threw-on when they'd gone out. None of it was horribly inappropriate either, even if it wasn't what she might have considered 'typical Dad attire.' But then, her father's mode of dress hadn't changed much over the past several decades. "They're nice," she admitted.

"Well there's no reason you should be the only one who dresses well," Cal teased. Then he reached into another bag and pulled out two boxes.

Alyse took a closer look. "Model cars! You think he'd like these?"

"He was going on about how his friend Gill's Dad was letting them help work on the real thing. I'm not about to try and fit an old car in the garage, so I figured he would actually enjoy these. It gives him something to do with his hands, and his mind."

"They're… perfect." Alyse looked up at Cal, startled. "It's just the kind of thing Counselor Bradford was suggesting the other day."

"Nice to know I know something," Cal commented.

Charlie's reaction to the cars was even better.

His eyes went wide as he stared at the boxes, first one and then the other. "Oh, my gosh…wow! These are awesome!" Then he gave both of them big squeezing hugs and ran out of the room. "I've got to put these together... Thank you!" The last was an after-thought, shouted from down the hall.

"Well, I guess you were right." Alyse, mildly stunned, smiled at Cal, who was looking smug.

"If I'm right about this, you want to see the other surprise I picked up?"

"Other surprise?" Alyse wasn't sure how many more she could handle in one day.

"Come downstairs."

Alyse followed cautiously, wondering what Cal was doing as he led her down into the garage.

She understood immediately when she saw not just their old car, but the space where a second car would fit was no longer empty. "Is that a…"

"New 1982 Blazer convertible in midnight blue? Why yes, yes it is."

The metallic, dark blue finish was far more tasteful than Alyse might have feared. It was actually quite lovely. "It's beautiful but…"

"Don't worry," Cal assured her as he reached out and put an arm around her shoulder. "I figured we could take turns driving it, but now we've both got a ride, and we don't have to trade off taking the bus or walking. Relax, it's got a roll-bar and all the necessary safety features too. I wouldn't put our kids in something dangerous."

"Do I want to know what it cost?" Alyse could look it up, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Don't worry about it," Cal assured her with a kiss on the cheek. "It all came out of my yearly bonus pay and all that active duty extra I saved up and never spent, and I've still got some left. I figured, we're not broke, we can afford to have a little something nice once in a while."

A little something nice which, in this case, happened to be a _very_ nice new car. She'd heard they handled particularly well, and actually had comfortable seating and decent storage. At least, she thought, he'd had the forethought to get a four-seater with all the necessary safety features. "It's lovely, Cal."

"Oh my goodness!" a female gasp came from the stairs. "Daddy, is that a Blazer? Oh wow! Can I drive it?"

"When you're old enough!" Cal barked, though there was no anger in it. It was more of a laugh. "And _after_ you prove you can drive it without wrecking it."

"What about me?" Charlie asked, crowding in behind his sister.

"When you prove you can go a year without wrecking anything in the house… _and_ you're old enough."

"Awww, man."

**March 13****th****, 1982**

Cal was in a good mood as he routed around looking for breakfast that morning. If he could find it, he wanted to make bacon and eggs before he went for a run. Slowly, he became aware of someone standing behind him, watching. He had been in the military too long not to know when he was being watched. He had a pretty good idea of who it was too. "There a reason you're staring at my ass?" Cal asked, grinning as he turned around, letting the refrigerator close behind him.

Alyse's cheeks turned slightly pink. "I didn't know you still had those jeans," she commented, collecting her cool with impressive speed. Cal had the feeling she'd wanted to scold him for using the word 'ass' in the house.

"They've been in the closet for a while," Cal replied with a nonchalant shrug. He'd saved them even when they got snug specifically because he had noticed that Alyse liked it when he wore them.

Now Alyse look uncomfortable. "Cal… about… well about all these changes recently."

"Changes?"

"The clothes, the hair, the car… working out… not that I'm complaining…I was just wondering who-what! What they were all about…" she fumbled, and fell silent with abnormal hesitation.

Suddenly it all came together. She was worried he was interested in someone else. That he was trying to impress some younger woman… other than her. Or at least that he was enjoying the looks he'd been getting lately. That, he couldn't deny. Cal set the unopened bacon down on the counter and crossed the room, tilting her chin up to look in him in the eyes. "You want to know what's going on?" he asked in a low, husky voice. "I'm trying to get the attention of the sexiest, most beautiful, intelligent, amazing woman I've ever met. And right now, I've got her alone with me, and it's all I can do not to grab her and carry her upstairs."  
Alyse's face was a flicker with emotions; pleasure, embarrassment... "What about the—"

"Who cares if the kids hear us?" Cal asked, and he meant it. "Would you rather they hear us fighting, or passionately loving each other?" They were hardly little kids. He pulled Alyse close, leaning forward so that her back was pressed against the kitchen wall near the door, and he was pressed firmly against her. "I_ need_ you, 'Lyse. I need some of the spontaneity, the heat, the _romance_… but I only want those things with _you_. Not all the time, not every moment of the day. I'm not saying we have to come home, bolt the doors, and make out like rabbits…" though that didn't sound like a half-bad idea. "But I can't go on like this… pretending I'm okay with getting old…and soft… and dull. I can't take sitting behind a desk all day and then coming home and doing the same thing over and over."

Alyse opened her mouth to speak, but he pressed his finger lightly to her lips. "Please… hear me out," he whispered. "I love you. I love our kids, and this family and this house and everything we've built together... everything_ you've_ built; amazing business woman, wife, and mother that you are. I still don't know sometimes how I deserve you, or everything you've given me… but I'm grateful. I'm not trying to belittle that. But you married _me_. I don't like trying to pretend most of the rest of my life didn't happen, just because the kids aren't toddlers anymore, who'll sleep like the dead and never notice that mommy and daddy are having a whole lot of fun in the next room. We got married, 'Lyse, we have kids. Okay. That doesn't change who we _are_… and I don't like feeling ashamed of being myself."

Alyse's mouth had dropped open a little bit, but while she looked a little stunned, she hadn't tried to cut him off either.

"I just want a little more time for us… I need you the same way I needed you when we met. That hasn't changed. I… damn it, 'Lyse… I don't even know what happened to "us." It's buried under schedules and meetings and work and activities and I don't know about you… but there's nothing hot about scheduling sex once every other week between PTA meetings and laundry night. I'm alive, damn it!"

"Isn't that because of the life we have?" Alyse asked softly. "I thought you were happy working at Headquarters."

"I'm happy because it means I'm not away from you," Cal nodded. "But I hate desk work, Alyse. Always have. I envy Sara getting to spar with the new students, and every alchemist I sent out on missions I'd love to take myself. I envy Aldon, and Art… not because I'd like half a dozen kids… but I find I envy their relationships. Even when they're in a room, all you have to do is watch them make eye contact with their wives…and it's like they're all over each other without even touching. It used to be like that. You drove me crazy, the way a man ought to feel about the woman he loves, and you still do, but I… it's like you're not really into it anymore. Like that part doesn't matter anymore, or it's somehow something to be ashamed of, or hidden from the kids. They're not babies. There's nothing we could do that would surprise Gloria, and Charlie's _twelve._ They don't need to be protected, they need to understand. You should've seen Gloria's face when she scolded me…"

"She _scolded_ you?" Alyse blurted out.

"Our opinionated _little girl_ informed me that I'm a lousy drunk and I should never shout at you like that," Cal replied with a wry smile, more for Alyse's expression than any humor in remembering being dressed down by a fourteen-year-old. "But really… she looked so hurt to find out I'm not the _upstanding citizen_ she thought I was. I never wanted to lie to my kids. And while I don't want to go back to drinking in lonely bars and picking up easy girls, I feel like I just woke up from a trance or something; like there's got to be a balance here somewhere, but I need you… us… if I'm ever going to find it."

Finally, Cal found himself running out of words. He'd talked it all out as best he could. "Does this make any sense?" He searched her face, begging for understanding.  
While in his best mental scenario, Alyse would have flung her arms around his neck and assured him it did, and they would have vanished upstairs and not come back downstairs for hours… Cal didn't really expect that to happen, which was good, because while Alyse hadn't pushed him away, she didn't look like she wanted to rush upstairs and have passionate sex either. Of course, after being told that he was unhappy with his great job, frustrated with their relationship, and basically whining like a hormonal teenager, he didn't expect her to.

What she _did _do was hug him. "I do miss having time together, just the two of us," she replied softly. "And I do understand, I think. I just… I need some time to take it all in."

"I understand." He did understand, but Cal couldn't help feeling disappointed. So much for the magic of his old best pair of girl-magnet jeans. As he stepped back, he couldn't help but ask, "'Lyse… why didn't you ever say anything about my hair before?" There was no way, given how detail oriented she was, she hadn't noticed the gray.

"Cause I think it looked just fine the way it was," she responded. "There's nothing wrong with a little gray. It looked pretty hot, actually."

"Really?" he asked in mild disbelief. Hot? Well he hadn't thought about that. "And my stomach?"

She looked slightly flustered as she admitted, "I thought it might hurt your feelings."

"Like having my daughter tell me to lay off the cookies didn't do that already."

"Well it's not like you were that out of shape to begin with," Alyse pointed out. "And at—"

"If you say 'your age' I'm going to—"

"What?" Alyse looked him straight in the eyes. "You're not twenty-five, Cal. I'm not either. There's nothing wrong with that."

"_You_ can say that," Cal replied, feeling disgruntled all over again. "In another couple of years people will think you're Gloria's sister instead of her mother. Me I'm…"

"A good looking middle-aged guy?" Alyse finished the statement. "A respected General who draws as many eyes as General Mustang did in his days and cuts a dashing figure in uniform?"

At that one, Cal did snort. "Dashing? Are we looking at the same mirror?"

"No, I'm looking at you." Alyse replied. "As much as we've been fighting lately, I thought if I said anything you'd just take it as more griping… and I meant it. I think you look fine. I mean, I thought you looked fine before. You do look fitter now," she admitted.

Cal sighed and hugged her again. "Well good, cause I've put an awful lot of sweat and pain into the last month." And he wasn't done, but he was at least pleased with the progress. Especially since his daily schedules were much calmer now that evaluations were over and he was almost done writing up the last reports. "It wouldn't be worth much if the only woman that mattered hadn't noticed."

"Of course I noticed," Alyse looked almost offended.

"That's what I wanted to hear." He leaned in a little more, his voice dropping lower, softer, as he grinned. "So how about we go on a little romantic getaway next weekend? Just you and me. We'll drive out somewhere, get a hotel room. They're having a jazz concert in Luza. The Frisky Five are playing. You love their stuff." They had been one of their favorite bands to listen to back before the war with Drachma. They had four of their records. "We'll go dancing, and have a good time. I've already talked to Will and Ren; they'd be happy to have Gloria and Charlie for the weekend."

"Wait, you've already talked to my brother? He did?" He'd surprised her, good. He wanted her off guard. "Well, sure, I don't have anything scheduled for next weekend."

"I know," Cal snickered. "I stole a look at your planner. You don't even have to pack. Everything you're going to need is in a suitcase upstairs."

At that, Alyse squirmed out from under him. "This, I have got to see."

Cal followed her upstairs. That was exactly what he wanted. Breakfast could wait.

The suitcase was under his side of the bed, but she had it out by the time he reached the bedroom, and she was holding up the very item he had been looking forward to seeing on her the most, though he had packed the suitcase himself, and only with his favorite things out of her wardrobe. This though, this was new.

The dress was sexy, though still conservative enough for her tastes, Cal hoped. It did accentuate her rather lovely cleavage. Or it would when she put it on. It was black silk, trimmed in red, with a deep v-neck, straps, and a flirty skirt designed for dancing, that fell just below the knee. She had worn dresses like that once. Dresses that didn't make her look like "someone's mother" or "the General's wife."

"So, what do you think?" he asked.

"It's gorgeous," Alyse admitted, wide eyed. "How did you know my size?"  
_  
I have my hands all over you and you have to ask that question? _"I looked at the clean laundry," he admitted. It had been far smarter than guessing, though he was pretty sure the hand method would have worked. "You'll wear it then?"

"How could I not?" Alyse admitted with a smile. "It's a little _daring_, but I like it."

"You used to be a little more daring." Cal closed the distance between them, stepping up behind her. "We won't have the kids along. Or work… we can just be you and me for a while. No one we know will see us." _And if I can get you alone in a hotel room, even strangers may not see much of us. _


	8. Chapter 8

**March 19****th****, 1982**

It was kind of nice to have a crowd around the dinner table, Will thought as he listened to Gloria and Kamika babbling excitedly at one end about school, and about their weekend plans. The two girls were almost the same age, since Kami's birthday was barely three months off, and they had a lot in common. Ren chimed in occasionally, since she would be the chauffer and chaperone of their Saturday girls-day-out.

Michio, who had actually crawled out of his room and gotten his nose out of his books, was chatting with Charlie about cars while both boys devoured their way through Ren's home-made Xing feast; noodles and spicy beef, spring rolls, and pot-stickers.

It was going to be awfully quiet next fall, when Michio went off to college and Kamika was the only one left at home. Will was glad Minxia called and wrote home regularly about her research and her various adventures in archaeology. He missed his oldest daughter, but she was young, and single, and living her dream. There would be time for settling down later.

He didn't expect to see Michio much when he went off to college either, because his son was talking about going to University in Xing, and studying history, philosophy, and pre-medical with a bent towards alkahestry. At least he would get to see more of his mother's side of the family.

"So what do you think, Dad?" Michio asked.

Will blinked, realizing he had missed a critical moment of conversation. "Sorry, what was that again?"

Michio snickered. "I was going to take Charlie to the car show tomorrow. They've got one going at the old Auto Center, lots of classic models."

"Oh, sure, Mich," Will agreed. He could trust his son to keep Charlie out of trouble, and from what Alyse had told him, Charlie was completely into cars and the last thing he was likely to be at a car show was trouble. He was glad his nephew seemed to have found a passion.

"Awesome!" Charlie's grin widened. "I heard there's going to be a '75—" and he was off again babbling.

After food was devoured and the table cleared, the girls vanished upstairs, to where Gloria was bunking in Kamika's room, on the empty bed that had been Minxia's when the girls shared, and Michio took Charlie out back to toss a ball around.

"This is fun," Ren smiled at Will as they snuggled up on the couch with after dinner tea. "Though it makes me miss when the children were smaller."

"Don't tell me you're changing your mind about being done now," Will teased, leaning in and kissing her softly. "Cause I am quite happy the diaper years are a decade behind us."

Ren returned the kiss. "I didn't say I'd gone crazy. I like having a little more you and me time again."

"Me too." Will gave her a squeeze. "I hope Alyse and Cal are enjoying their weekend off."

Ren nodded. "They need it. I can't remember the last time they took any time off and did something by themselves."

"Not since Charlie was in diapers," Will agreed thoughtfully. He had been glad to hear that they were taking a little vacation. He hadn't said anything to his sister, but he'd sensed a lot of tension there lately, and a reasonable amount of stress. And given they lived in the town house right next door, he saw and heard more than he'd ever tell Alyse. His sister was particular about her privacy. "This will be good for them. Everyone needs a hot date every once in a while."

"Is that a hint, Professor?" Ren asked.

"Of course not, Princess," Will teased, pulling her close again. "But when Cal and Alyse get back, maybe we can convince Mom and Dad to spend a weekend with Mich and Kami."

**March 21****st****, 1982**

Late morning sunshine, crisp white sheets, the scent of lilac soap, and the soft feel of Alyse's skin against his chest and stomach as he held her close, her back pressed against him.

Cal lazily nuzzled the side of her neck, not wanting to wake her, but hoping she was awake all the same. _Last night was amazing. C'mon… let's make this morning amazing._

Alyse stirred slowly. "Nnnn….. tickles."

"I could do something else," Cal suggested softly in her ear.

Cuddled close, he could just see her eyes come open as he peered over her silky shoulder. "Already?" she asked, drowsy but sounding slightly disbelieving.

"What? We slept," Cal chuckled. "I will never get enough of you." And he'd had far more of this wife this weekend alone than he'd had in the past several months. The last thing he wanted to do was waste the rest of their last day of freedom.

Alyse rolled over in his arms so they were face to face. "I don't know where you get the energy," she said, but she was smiling. A good sign.

"We generate it," he grinned, kissing her, coming further awake at the thought of an intimate morning like the night before…and the morning before. Aside from the few hours they had spent in the middle of yesterday, strolling the town, taking in lunch at a nice café, and enjoying the jazz concert the night before, they had spent a lot of what he considered time _very_ well spent, in the bedroom. Cal couldn't remember the last time he had felt so satisfied.

His first clue that this morning was different, was when Alyse's return kiss was soft, and gentle, but not at all fired with the heated passion they had shared the rest of the weekend.

"Why so hesitant this morning?" he asked, trying to keep frustration out of his voice. "You were on fire night."

"We have to go home today."

"Don't think about that." He kissed the tip of her nose, his hands gripping her sides. "We're right here, right now, and no one cares if we gasp, moan, or laugh our heads off when I tickle your feet."

"Don't you dare!"

"I was teasing, 'Lyse," Cal eased. "But seriously. Don't think about all that right now." He sighed, and snuggled as close as he could get. "I wish we had more time like this. Don't spoil it with all that responsibility."

"We can't stay here forever," Alyse reminded him.

"And I'm not asking to." He looked her in the eyes. "I'm just asking for more time for _us_, for _this. _The passion, the romance…"

"The sex?"

"Hey, you said it, I didn't." He smiled at her knowing expression. "I _need_ you, just like I always have. Can we at least _try_ and find a little more time for fun? More time for us. I love our kids, but that doesn't mean we have to spend every waking minute pretending we don't know how we got them in the first place."

That got her…her cheeks flushed rose for a moment. Cal felt a shudder of pleasure, and her cheeks deepened. _Felt that did you? Well, good. _Cal ran one hand through her hair. "'Lyse… please?"

She pressed her lips to his and Cal promptly put all thoughts of _later_ out of his head.

**April 17****th****, 1982**

"Okay, you should cook out more often," Cal commented with a chuckle as he looked at what was on the grill at Tore and Charisa's: giant shrimp, vegetable kabobs, beer-marinated sausages.

"Charisa only let me splurge because of the occasion," Tore replied as he used his grilling fork to check the sausages.

"Your birthday or the promotion?" Cal asked.

"Both." Tore had recently been promoted to Colonel, finally, at thirty-seven. He grinned, though it was broken by a jaw-cracking yawn, and a chuckle. "Sorry."

Cal snickered. "Good night last night?" he commented, half teasing.

"Oh you'd better believe it was." Tore flipped the shrimp, which hit the grill with a fresh sizzle. "Celebration started early."

Well, clearly that was one relationship that didn't need any help. Cal didn't bother to ask further along that vein. Instead he nodded and sniffed appreciatively. "Well, congratulations. You deserve the recognition, though I'm not sure you deserve the mountains of work that come with it."

"The mountain you'll be foisting off on my desk when I get in to work tomorrow?" Tore snickered knowingly. "I think I can handle it."

"Good. Then I won't feel guilty about it."

"Daddy!" Camelia giggled as she ran up to them, her wavy brown hair bouncing. Cal could hardly believe she was already six-and-a-half. Of course, Dare was fifteen. Cal couldn't help but shoot glances across the yard, where Dare and Gloria were chatting animatedly.

"What is it, beautiful?" Tore grinned as he put down the fork and turned away from the grill long enough to scoop his daughter up in a hug.

"Mommy says everything else is ready an' Brandon an' I put out the plates an' napkins 'an forks an' everything!" she babbled happily.

"That's my girl." Tore set her down. "Go tell Mommy that everything's about ready to come off the grill, okay?"

"Yes, Sir!" Camelia grinned and then saluted sharply and ran off.

Cal watched her go in wonderment.

"Little bundle of adorableness isn't she?" Tore commented without bothering to hide his pride in his adoptive daughter. "Don't let her fool you, she can be a handful."

"How do you handle it?"

"With a laugh and long patience." Tore shrugged. "Honestly, after raising Dare mostly on my own for four years, and everything that happened, nothing seems all that hard to handle."

Cal remembered those years. They had been hard ones for Tore, and he had always been impressed with his friend's ability to cope and keep moving, to turn almost overnight from unattached soldier to single father. "I wish I could say the same thing."

"Something wrong?" His friend looked at him as he went back to checking the food. "I thought Charlie was doing better."

"Oh, he is." Getting him a hobby he actually liked and his regular meetings with the counselor –whatever it was they discussed, Cal hadn't pried much, he just let Charlie tell him what he wanted to- seemed to be helping. They'd only had two notes home about disruptive behavior in the classroom in the past month, and even on the second the teacher had noted that overall, his focus and ability to behave had improved. "I just find myself hoping this isn't a temporary fix…and that I can keep up for the next ten years or more." He needed the energy to keep up with teenagers. Working out helped, but it could only do so much. Tore was eighteen years his junior, though it wasn't something he thought about much anymore.

"Everything will work out." Tore looked up, and glanced in the direction Cal had looked earlier, at Dare and Gloria. "Maybe we should both be more worried about whatever's being said over there."

"You think your son is good enough for my daughter?" Cal asked.

Tore grinned. "I think neither of our opinions would have anything to do with it."

* * *

Heymans Breda relaxed on the back deck in one of his favorite lawn chairs, contentedly full of a delicious meal in honor of his son-in-law, and enjoying watching everyone mingling and enjoying themselves. It wasn't a huge gathering, but that was fine, they didn't all need to be. The only people he wished had been able to make it tonight, who had promised to come over on the weekend, were Niam and Denise and their kids. Niam had a game, and Denise had a dress rehearsal, and the kids were visiting Denise's parents for dinner tonight.

But all in all, it was a good day. Any day was a good one these days, he felt. It was just nice to still be alive.

"Do you need anything, Dad?" Charisa asked as she paused beside him, holding a tray of fresh fruit.

"No, I'm good here with my glass of lemonade and my slide of your amazing chocolate cake," Breda chuckled at his daughter, gesturing to the plate, which had little left on it but a tiny smear of chocolate.

Charisa smiled and shook her head. "Well I'm glad you enjoyed it. We're going to start a boys on girls badminton challenge in a few minutes. Do you want to play?" she asked, though her expression became slightly wistful, as if she already knew what he was going to say.

Breda was sorry to disappoint her. Still, he shook his head. "You know I shouldn't. It's all right, I'll sit here and take turns routing for whoever's losing. Though you tell that good-for-nothing Colonel out there he owes me a game of Go when it's over. I want to see how much strategy he's learned to go with that shiny new rank of his."

"I'll tell him that," Charisa promised before she took the near-empty fruit tray back inside.

Breda turned his attention back to the happy, energetic chaos in front of him. It was an odd day when doctors told him not to over-stress himself, but it had come to that. He still took his daily walk, though it was down to once around the block, and he still was mindful of what he ate, but even so, he was old. Far older than he'd expected to live to, especially after Nancy passed. _I can't believe it's been over thirteen years, my love. How you would have enjoyed this._

It took very little imagination to hear Nancy laughing at Tore's terrible jokes, or talking with Charisa, or hugging her grandchildren and helping feed everyone until they were stuffed. To feel her hand on his shoulder, a comforting squeeze. Her very essence was there in the gardens she had designed and planted, and he had never felt the urge to change, outside of the fact that Charisa picked the annuals each year. But she had her mother's taste in flowers.  
_  
Maybe you are here. If so, I hope you feel as reassured as I do, that our children are in good hands. _

* * *

"That was nice," Alyse smiled when they got home. "It's lovely to relax for an evening." She wished she could do it a little more often. The freshness of their weekend off had lasted almost a week before reality seemed to bog things back down. She was planning three weddings and an Ambassadorial lunch, all happening in May, and there always seemed to be something to do. Tonight, she would still be up late finishing putting together finer details for the most formal of the weddings. She needed to get the list of music to the musicians, the finalized guest list to the caterer in numbers, the seating cards to the printers.

"It is," Cal commented, sounding pleased. He came up behind her, and Alyse paused when she felt his arms wrap around her waist from behind. "I don't suppose we could continue that relaxation… upstairs?"

Alyse glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. "It's almost ten," she said regretfully. "And I've got loads of work still due tomorrow morning. Can we…"

"Reschedule?"

She hated hearing the sound of disappointment in his voice. "I'm sorry," she said honestly, turning around to face him.

"No, it's fine," he smiled, failing to completely hide that he would have preferred a different answer. But he didn't shout; he didn't fight. "I understand. Expect me to make a pass at you tomorrow."

Alyse chuckled. "All right. But it better be a good one."


End file.
